bE' 


w 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2008  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.archive.org/details/bureaucracyorcivOObalzricli 


THE    COMEDY   OF  HUMAN  LIFE 
By   H.  DE   BALZAC 


SCENES  FROM  PARISIAN   LIFE 

BUREAUCRACY 

(LES    EMPLOYES) 


BALZAC'S     NOVELS. 

Translated  by  Miss  K.  P.  Wormeley. 


Already  Published : 
PERE    GOmOT. 
DUCHESSE    DE    LANGEAIS. 
RISE     AND     FALL     OF     CESAR     BIROT- 

TEAU. 
EUGENIE    GRANDET. 
COUSIN    PONS. 
THE    COUNTRY    DOCTOR. 
THE    TWO    BROTHERS. 
THE    ALKAHEST  (The  House  of  Claes). 
MODESTE    MIGNON. 
THE    MAGIC    SKIN  (Peau  de  Chagrin). 
COUSIN    BETTE. 
LOUIS    LAMBERT. 
BUREAUCRACY  (Les  Employes). 

ROBERTS    BROTHERS,    Publishers, 
BOSTON. 


HONORE    DE    BALZAC 

TRANSLATED    BY 

KATHARINE    PRESCOTT    WORMELEY 


BUREAUCRACY 


OR 


A  CIVIL  SERVICE   REFORMER 


ROBERTS     BROTHERS 


3     SOMERSET     STREET 


BOSTON 
1889 


^^> 


Copyright,  1889, 
By  Roberts  Brothers. 


Snfbrrsits  $res0: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    The  Rabourdin  Household 1 

II.    Monsieur  des  Lupeaulx 37 

III.  The    Teredos    Navalis,    otherwise    called 

Ship-Worm 62 

IV.  Three-quarter  length  Portraits  op  certain 

Government  Officials 99 

V.    The  Machine  in  Motion .  147 

VI.    The  Worms  at  Work 186 

VII.     Scenes  from  Domestic  Life 226 

VIII.    Forward,  Mollusks  !       270 

IX.    The  Resignation 303 


BURB^^eJ^SrACY. 


THE  EABOUBDIN  HOUSEHOLD. 

In  Paris,  where  men  of  thought  and  study  bear  a 
certain  likeness  to  one  another,  living  as  they  do  in  a 
common  centre,  you  must  have  met  with  several  resem- 
bling Monsieur  Rabourdin,  whose  acquaintance  we  are 
about  to  make  at  a  moment  when  he  is  head  of  a  bureau 
in  one  of  our  most  important  ministries.  At  this  period 
he  was  forty  years  old,  with  graj^  hair  of  so  pleasing  a 
shade  that  women  might  at  a  pinch  fall  in  love  with  it 
for  it  softened  a  somewhat  melancholy  countenance,  blue 
eyes  full  of  fire,  a  skin  that  was  still  fair,  though  rather 
ruddy  and  touched  here  and  there  with  strong  red 
marks  ;  a  forehead  and  nose  a  la  Louis  XV.,  a  serious 
mouth,  a  tall  figure,  thin,  or  perhaps  wasted,  like  that 
of  a  man  just  recovering  from  illness,  and  finally,  a 
bearing  that  was  midway  between  the  indolence  of  a 
mere  idler  and  the  thoughtfulness  of  a  busy  man.  If 
this  portrait  serves  to  depict  his  character,  a  sketch  of 


2  Bureaucracy. 

the  man's  dress  will  bring  it  still  further  into  relief. 
Eabourdin  wore  habitually  a  blue  surtout,  a  white  cra- 
vat, a  waistcoat  crossed  a  la  Robespierre,  black  trous- 
ers without  straps,  gray  silk  stockings  and  low  shoes. 
Well -shaved,  and  with  his  stomach  warmed  \>y  a  cup  of 
coffee,  he  left  home  at  eight  in  the  morning  with  the 
regularity  of  clock-work,  always  passing  along  the  same 
streets  on  his  way  to  the  ministry :  so  neat  was  he,  so 
formal,  so  starched  that  he  might  have  been  taken  for 
an  Englishman  on  the  road  to  his  embassy. 

From  these  general  signs  you  will  readily  discern  a 
family  man,  harassed  by  vexations  in  his  own  house- 
hold, worried  by  annoj'ances  at  the  ministr}-,  3'et  phi- 
losopher enough  to  take  life  as  he  found  it ;  an  honest 
man,  loving  his  country  and  serving  it,  not  conceal- 
ing from  himself  the  obstacles  in  the  waj^  of  those 
who  seek  to  do  right ;  prudent,  because  he  knew  men  ; 
exquisitely  courteous  with  women,  of  whom  he  asked 
nothing,  —  a  man  full  of  acquirements,  affable  with  his 
inferiors,  holding  his  equals  at  a  great  distance,  and 
dignified  towards  his  superiors.  At  the  epoch  of  which 
we  write,  j^ou  would  have  noticed  in  him  the  coldl}' 
resigned  air  of  one  who  has  buried  the  illusions  of  his 
youth  and  renounced  every  secret  ambition ;  you  would 
have  recognized  a  discouraged,  but  not  disgusted  man, 
one  who  still  clings  to  his  first  projects,  —  more  perhaps 
to  employ  his  faculties  than  in  the  hope  of  a  doubtful 


Bureaucracy.  3 

success.  He  was  not  decorated  with  any  order,  and 
always  accused  himself  of  weakness  for  having  worn 
that  of  the  Fleur-de-lis  in  the  early  days  of  the 
Restoration. 

The  life  of  this  man  was  marked  by  certain  m^^ste- 
rious  peculiarities.  He  had  never  known  his  father ; 
his  mother,  a  woman  to  whom  luxury  was  everything, 
always  elegantly  dressed,  alwa3^s  on  pleasure  bent, 
whose  beauty  seemed  to  him  miraculous  and  whom  he 
very  seldom  saw,  left  him  little  at  her  death ;  but  she 
had  given  him  that  too  common  and  incomplete  educa- 
tion which  produces  so  much  ambition  and  so  little 
abilit}'.  A  few  days  before  his  mother's  death,  when 
he  was  just  sixteen,  he  left  the  Lycee  Napoleon  to 
enter  as  supernumerary  a  government  office,  where  an 
unknown  protector  had  provided  him  with  a  place.  At 
twenty-two  years  of  age  Rabourdin  became  under-head- 
clerk  ;  at  twenty-five,  head-clerk,  or,  as  it  was  termed, 
head  of  the  bureau.  From  that  day  the  hand  that 
assisted  the  young  man  to  start  in  life  was  never 
felt  again  in  his  career,  except  as  to  a  single  circum- 
stance ;  it  led  him,  poor  and  friendless,  to  the  house  of 
a  Monsieur  Leprince,  formerly  an  auctioneer,  a  wid- 
ower said  to  be  extremel}"  rich,  and  father  of  an  only 
daughter.  Xavier  Rabourdin  fell  desperately  in  love 
with  Mademoiselle  Celestine  Leprince,  then  seventeen 
years  of  age,  who  had  all  the  matrimonial  claims  of  a 


4  Bureaucracy, 

dowry  of  two  hundred  thousand  francs.  Carefully  edu- 
cated by  an  artistic  mother,  who  transmitted  her  own 
talents  to  her  daughter,  this  young  lady  was  fitted  to 
attract  distinguished  men.  Tall,  handsome,  and  fineh'- 
formed,  she  was  a  good  musician,  drew  and  painted,  spoke 
several  languages,  and  even  knew  something  of  science, 
—  a  dangerous  advantage,  which  requires  a  woman 
to  avoid  carefully  all  appearance  of  pedantr3^  Blinded 
by  mistaken  tenderness,  the  mother  gave  the  daughter 
false  ideas  as  to  her  probable  future ;  to  the  maternal 
eyes  a  duke  or  an  ambassador,  a  marshal  of  France  or 
a  minister  of  State,  could  alone  give  her  Celestine  her 
due  place  in  society.  The  young  ladj^  had,  moreover, 
the  manners,  language,  and  habits  of  the  great  world. 
Her  dress  was  richer  and  more  elegant  than  was  suitable 
for  an  unmarried  girl ;  a  husband  could  give  her  nothing 
more  than  she  now  had,  except  happiness.  Besides 
all  such  indulgences,  the  foolish  spoiling  of  the  mother, 
w^ho  died  a  3'ear  after  the  girl's  marriage,  made  a  hus- 
band's task  all  the  more  difficult.  What  coolness  and 
composure  of  mind  were  needed  to  rule  such  a  woman ! 
Commonplace  suitors  held  back  in  fear.  Xavier  Ra- 
bourdin,  without  paffents  and  without  fortune  other 
than  his  situation  under  government,  was  proposed  to 
Celestine  by  her  father.  She  resisted  for  a  long  time  ; 
not  that  she  had  an^^  personal  objection  to  her  suitor, 
who  was  young,  handsome,  and  much  in  love,  but  she 


Bureaucracy,  5 

shrank  from  the  plain  name  of  Madame  Rabourdin. 
Monsieur  Leprince  assured  his  daughter  that  Xavier 
was  of  the  stock  that  statesmen  came  of.  Celestine 
answered  that  a  man  named  Rabourdin  would  never  be 
anything  under  the  government  of  the  Bourbons,  etc. 
Forced  back  to  his  intrenchments,  the  father  made  the 
serious  mistake  of  telUng  his  daughter  that  her  future 
husband  was  certain  of  becoming  Rabourdin  de  some- 
thing or  other  before  he  reached  the  age  of  admission 
to  the  Chamber.  Xavier  was  soon  to  be  appointed 
Master  of  petitions,  and  general  secretary  at  his  minis- 
try. From  these  lower  steps  of  the  ladder  the  young 
man  would  certainly  rise  to  the  higher  ranks  of  the 
administration,  possessed  of  a  fortune  and  a  name  be- 
queathed to  him  in  a  certain  will  of  which  he.  Monsieur 
Leprince,  was  cognizant.  On  this  the  marriage  took 
place. 

Rabourdin  and  his  wife  believed  in  the  mysterious 
protector  to  whom  the  auctioneer  alluded.  Led  away 
by  such  hopes  and  by  the  natural  extravagance  of  happy 
love,  Monsieur  and  Madame  Rabourdin  spent  nearly 
one  hundred  thousand  francs  of  their  capital  in  the  first 
five  years  of  married  life.  By  the  end  of  this  time 
Celestine,  alarmed  at  the  non-advancement  of  her 
husband,  insisted  on  investing  the  remaining  hundred 
thousand  francs  of  her  dowry  in  landed  property, 
which  returned  only  a  slender  income ;  but  her  future 


6  Bureaucracy. 

inheritance  from  her  father  would  amply  repay  all  pres- 
ent privations  with  perfect  comfort  and  ease  of  life. 
When  the  worthy  auctioneer  saw  his  son-in-law  disap- 
pointed of  the  hopes  they  had  placed  on  the  nameless 
protector,  he  tried,  for  the  sake  of  his  daughter,  to  repair 
the  secret  loss  by  risking  part  of  his  fortune  in  a  specu- 
lation which  had  favorable  chances  of  success.  But  the 
poor  man  became  involved  in  one  of  the  liquidations  of 
the  house  of  Nucingen,  and  died  of  grief,  leaving  noth- 
ing behind  him  but  a  dozen  fine  pictures  which  adorned 
his  daughter's  salon,  and  a  few  old-fashioned  pieces  of 
furniture,  which  she  put  in  the  garret. 

Eight  years  of  fruitless  expectation  made  Madame 
Rabourdin  at  last  understand  that  the  paternal  protec- 
tor of  her  husband  must  have  died,  and  that  his  will,  if 
it  ever  existed,  was  lost  or  destroyed.  Two  j^ears  be- 
fore her  father's  death  the  place  of  chief  of  division, 
which  became  vacant,  was  given,  over  her  husband's 
head,  to  a  certain  Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere,  related  to 
a  deputy  of  the  Right  who  was  made  minister  in  1823. 
It  was  enough  to  drive  Rabourdin  out  of  the  service ; 
but  how  could  he  give  up  his  salary  of  eight  thousand 
francs  and  perquisites,  when  they  constituted  three 
fourths  of  his  income  and  his  household  was  accustomed 
to  spend  them?  Besides,  if  he  had  patience  for  a  few 
more  years  he  would  then  be  entitled  to  a  pension. 
What  a  fall  was  this  for  a  woman  whose  high  expecta- 


Bureaucracy,  7 

tions  at  the  opening  of  her  life  were  more  or  less  war- 
ranted, and  one  who  was  admitted  on  all  sides  to  be  a 
superior  woman. 

Madame  Rabourdin  had  justified  the  expectations 
formed  of  Mademoiselle  Leprince ;  she  possessed  the 
elements  of  that  apparent  superiority  which  pleases  the 
world ;  her  liberal  education  enabled  her  to  speak  to 
ever}^  one  in  his  or  her  own  language  ;  her  talents  were 
real ;  she  showed  an  independent  and  elevated  mind ; 
her  conversation  charmed  as  much  by  its  variety  and 
ease  as  by  the  oddness  and  originality  of  her  ideas. 
Such  qualities,  useful  and  appropriate  in  a  sovereign 
or  an  ambassadress,  were  of  little  service  to  a  house- 
hold compelled  to  jog  in  the  common  round.  Those 
who  have  the  gift  of  speaking  well  desire  an  audience ; 
they  like  to  talk,  even  if  they  sometimes  weary  others. 
To  satisfy  the  requirements  of  her  mind  Madame  Ra- 
bourdin took  a  weekly  reception-day  and  went  a  great 
deal  into  societ}'  to  obtain  the  consideration  her  self- 
love  was  accustomed  to  enjoy.  Those  who  know  Par- 
isian life  will  readil}"  understand  how  a  woman  of  her 
temperament  suffered,  and  was  martyrized  at  heart  by 
the  scantiness  of  her  pecuniary  means.  No  matter  what 
foolish  declarations  people  make  about  money,  they  one 
and  all,  if  they  live  in  Paris,  must  grovel  before  accounts, 
do  homage  to  figures,  and  kiss  the  forked  hoof  of  the 
golden  calf.    What  a  problem  was  hers  !  twelve  thousand 


8  Bureaucracy. 

francs  a  year  to  defray  the  costs  of  a  household  consist- 
ing of  father,  mother,  two  children,  a  chambermaid  and 
cook,  living  on  the  second  floor  of  a  house  in  the  rue 
Duphot,  in  an  apartment  costing  two  thousand  francs 
a  year.  Deduct  the  dress  and  the  carriages  of  Madame 
before  you  estimate  the  gross  expenses  of  the  family, 
for  dress  precedes  ever3'thing ;  then  see  what  remains 
for  the  education  of  the  children  (a  girl  of  eight  and  a 
boy  of  nine,  whose  maintenance  must  cost  at  least  two 
thousand  francs  besides)  and  you  will  find  that  Madame 
Eabourdin  could  barely  afford  to  give  her  husband 
thirty  francs  a  month.  That  is  the  position  of  half 
the  husbands  in  Paris,  under  penalty  of  being  thought 
monsters. 

Thus  it  was  that  this  woman  who  believed  herself 
destined  to  shine  in  the  world  was  condemned  to  use 
her  mind  and  her  faculties  in  a  sordid  struggle,  fighting 
hand  to  hand  with  an  account-book.  Already,  terrible 
sacrifice  of  pride  !  she  had  dismissed  her  man-servant, 
not  long  after  the  death  of  her  father.  Most  women 
grow  weary  of  this  daily  struggle ;  they  complain  but 
they  usually  end  b}^  giving  up  to  fate  and  taking  what 
comes  to  them ;  Celestine's  ambition,  far  from  lessen- 
ing, only  increased  through  difliculties,  and  led  her, 
when  she  found  she  could  not  conquer  them,  to  sweep 
them  aside.  To  her  mind  this  complicated  tangle  of 
the  affairs  of  life  was  a  Gordian  knot  impossible  to 


Bureaucracy,  9 

untie  and  which  genius  ought  to  cut.  Far  from  ac- 
cepting the  pettiness  of  middle-class  existence,  she  was 
angry  at  the  delay  which  kept  the  great  things  of  life 
from  her  grasp,  — blaming  fate  as  deceptive.  Celestine 
sincerely  believed  herself  a  superior  woman.  Perhaps 
she  was  right;  perhaps  she  would  have  been  great 
under  great  circumstances  ;  perhaps  she  was  not  in  her 
right  place.  Let  us  remember  there  are  as  many  varie- 
ties of  woman  as  there  are  of  man,  all  of  which  society 
fashions  to  meet  its  needs.  Now  in  the  social  order,  as 
in  Nature's  order,  there  are  more  young  shoots  than 
there  are  trees,  more  spawn  than  full-grown  fish,  and 
many  great  capacities  (Athanase  Granson,  for  instance) 
which  die  withered  for  want  of  moisture,  like  seeds  on 
stony  ground.  There  are,  unquestionablj",  household 
women,  accomplished  women,  ornamental  women,  wo- 
men who  are  exclusively  wives,  or  mothers,  or  sweet- 
hearts, women  purely  spiritual  or  purely  material ;  just 
as  there  are  soldiers,  artists,  artisans,  mathematicians, 
poets,  merchants,  men  who  understand  mone}^  or  agri- 
culture, or  government,  and  nothing  else.  Besides  all 
this,  the  eccentricity  of  events  leads  to  endless  cross- 
purposes  ;  many  are  called  and  few  are  chosen  is  the 
law  of  earth  as  of  heaven.  Madame  Rabourdin  con- 
ceived herself  fully  capable  of  directing  a  statesman, 
inspiring  an  artist,  helping  an  inventor  and  pushing 
his  interests,  or  of  devoting  her  powers  to  the  finan- 


10  Bureaucracy, 

cial  politics  of  a  Nucingen,  and  playing  a  brilliant  part 
in  the  great  world.  Perhaps  she  was  only  endeavor- 
ing to  excuse  to  her  own  mind  a  hatred  for  the  laundry 
lists  and  the  duty  of  overlooking  the  housekeeping 
bills,  together  with  the  petty  economies  and  cares  of  a 
small  establishment.  She  was  superior  onty  in  those 
things  where  it  gave  her  pleasure  to  be  so.  Feeling 
as  keenly  as  she  did  the  thorns  of  a  position  which  can 
only  be  likened  to  that  of  Saint-Laurence  on  his  grid- 
iron, is  it  any  wonder  that  she  sometimes  cried  out? 
So,  in  her  parox^'sms  of  thwarted  ambition,  in  the  mo- 
ments when  her  wounded  vanity  gave  her  terrible  shoot- 
ing pains,  Celestine  turned  upon  Xavier  Rabourdin. 
Was  it  not  her  husband's  dut}^  to  give  her  a  suitable 
position  in  the  world?  If  she  were  a  man  she  would 
have  had  the  energy  to  make  a  rapid  fortune  for  the 
sake  of  rendering  an  adored  wife  happy !  She  re- 
proached him  for  being  too  honest  a  man.  In  the 
mouth  of  some  women  this  accusation  is  a  charge  of  im- 
becilit3\  She  sketched  out  for  him  certain  brilliant 
plans  in  which  she  took  no  account  of  the  hindrances 
imposed  by  men  and  things ;  then,  like  all  women 
under  the  influence  of  vehement  feeling,  she  became  in 
thought  as  Machiavellian  as  Gondreville,  and  more 
unprincipled  than  Maxime  de  Trailles.  At  such  times 
Celestine's  mind  took  a  wide  range,  and  she  imagined 
herself  at  the  summit  of  her  ideas. 


Bureaucracy,  11 

When  these  fine  visions  first  began  Rabourdin,  who 
saw  the   practical   side,   was    cool.      Celestine,    much 
grieved,   thought   her  husband  narrow-minded,  timid, 
unsympathetic ;  and  she  acquired,  insensibl}^,  a  wholl}^ 
false  opinion  of  the  companion  of  her  life.     In  the  first 
place,  she  often  extinguished  him  b}^  the  brilliancy  of 
her  arguments.     Her  ideas  came  to  her  in  flashes,  and 
she  sometimes  stopped  him  short  when  he  began  an 
explanation,  because  she  did  not   choose  to  lose   the 
slightest  sparkle  of  her  own  mind.     From  the  earliest 
days  of  their  marriage  Celestine,  feeling  herself  beloved 
and  admired  by  her  husband,  treated  him  without  cere- 
mony ;    she  put  herself  above  conjugal  laws  and  the 
rules  of  private  courtes}^  by  expecting  love  to  pardon 
all  her  little  wrong-doings ;  and,  as  she  never  in  any 
way  corrected  herself,  she  was  always  in  the  ascendant. 
In  such  a  situation  the  man  holds  to  the  wife  very  much 
the  position  of  a  child  to  a  teacher  when  the  latter  can- 
not or  will  not  recognize  that  the  mind  he  has  ruled  in 
childhood  is  becoming  mature.     Like  Madame  de  Stael, 
who  exclaimed  in  a  room  full  of  people,  addressing,  as 
we  may  sa}',  a  greater  man   than  herself,    "Do  you 
know  you  have  really  said  something  very  profound  !  " 
Madame  Rabourdin  said  of  her  husband  :  "He  certainly 
has  a  good  deal  of  sense  at  times."     Her  disparaging 
opinion   of  him   gradually  appeared   in   her  behavior 
through  almost  imperceptible  motions.     Her   attitude 

UNTVEE8ITY  ) 

.A  /J 


12  Bureaucracy. 

and  manners  expressed  a  want  of  respect.  Without 
being  aware  of  it  she  injured  her  husband  in  the  e3^es  of 
,  others  ;  for  in  all  countries  societ}^  before  making  up 
its  mind  about  a  man,  listens  for  what  his  wife  thinks 
of  him,  and  obtains  from  her  what  the  Genevese  term 
*'  pre-advice." 

When  Rabourdin  became  aware  of  the  mistakes 
which  love  had  led  him  to  commit  it  was  too  late,  — 
the  groove  had  been  cut ;  he  suffered  and  was  silent. 
Like  other  men  in  whom  sentiments  and  ideas  are 
of  equal  strength,  whose  souls  are  noble  and  their 
brains  well  balanced,  he  was  the  defender  of  his  wife 
before  the  tribunal  of  his  own  judgment ;  he  told  him- 
self that  nature  doomed  her  to  a  disappointed  life 
through  his  fault,  his;  she  was  like  a  thoroughbred  Eng- 
lish horse,  a  racer  harnessed  to  a  cart  full  of  stones ; 
she  it  was  who  suffered ;  and  he  blamed  himself  His 
wife,  by  dint  of  constant  repetition,  had  inoculated  him 
with  her  own  belief  in  herself  Ideas  are  contagious  in 
a  household ;  the  ninth  thermidor,  like  so  man}'  other 
portentous  events,  was  the  result  of  female  influence. 
Thus,  goaded  by  Celestine's  ambition,  Rabourdin  had 
long  considered  the  means  of  satisfying  it,  though  he 
hid  his  hopes,  so  as  to  spare  her  the  tortures  of  uncer- 
tainty. The  man  was  firml}^  resolved  to  make  his  way 
in  the  administration  by  bringing  a  strong  light  to  bear 
upon  it.    He  intended  to  bring  about  one  of  those  revo- 


Bureaucracy.  13 

lutions  which  send  a  man  to  the  head  of  either  one 
party  or  another  in  society ;  but  being  incapable  of  so 
doing  in  his  own  interests,  he  merely  pondered  useful 
thoughts  and  dreamed  of  triumphs  won  for  his  country 
by  noble  means.  His  ideas  were  both  generous  and 
ambitious ;  few  officials  have  not  conceived  the  like ; 
but  among  officials  as  among  artists  there  are  more 
miscarriages  than  births ;  which  is  tantamount  to 
BufFon's  saying  that  "Genius  is  patience." 

Placed  in  a  position  where  he  could  study  French 
administration  and  observe  its  mechanism,  Rabourdin 
worked  in  the  circle  where  his  thought  revolved,  which, 
we  may  remark  parentheticall}^  is  the  secret  of  much 
human  accomplishment ;  and  his  labor  culminated  fin- 
ally in  the  invention  of  a  new  system  for  the  Civil  Ser- 
vice of  government.  Knowing  the  people  with  whom 
he  had  to  do,  he  maintained  the  machine  as  it  then 
worked,  as  it  still  works  and  will  continue  to  work ;  for 
everybody  fears  to  remodel  it,  though  no  one,  according 
to  Rabourdin,  ought  to  be  unwilling  to  simplif}'^  it.  In  his 
opinion,  the  problem  to  be  resolved  lay  in  a  better  use 
of  the  same  forces.  His  plan,  in  its  simplest  form,  was 
to  revise  taxation  and  lower  it  in  a  way  that  should  not 
diminish  the  revenues  of  the  State,  and  to  obtain,  from 
a  budget  equal  to  the  budgets  which  now  excite  such 
rabid  discussion,  results  that  should  be  two-fold  greater 
than  the  present  results.     Long  practical  experience 


14  Bureaucracy. 

had  taught  Rabourdin  that  perfection  is  brought  about 
ill  all  things  by  changes  in  the  direction  of  simplicity. 
To  economize  is  to  simplif}^  To  simplify  means  to 
suppress  unnecessary  machinery ;  removals  naturallj' 
follow.  His  system,  therefore,  depended  on  the  weed- 
ing out  of  officials  and  the  establishment  of  a  new  order 
of  administrative  offices.  No  doubt  the  hatred  which 
all  reformers  incur  takes  its  rise  here.  Removals  re- 
quired by  this  perfecting  process,  always  ill-understood, 
threaten  the  well-being  of  those  on  whom  a  change  in 
their  condition  is  thus  forced.  What  rendered  Rabourdin 
reall}'  great  was  that  he  was  able  to  restrain  the  enthu- 
siasm that  possesses  all  reformers,  and  to  patiently  seek 
out  a  slow  evolving  medium  for  all  changes  so  as  to 
avoid  shocks,  leaving  time  and  experience  to  prove  the 
excellence  of  each  reform.  The  grandeur  of  the  result 
anticipated  might  make  us  doubt  its  possibility  if  we 
lose  sight  of  this  essential  point  in  our  rapid  analysis 
of  his  S3'stem.  It  is,  therefore,  not  unimportant  to 
show  through  his  own  self-communings,  however  incom- 
plete they  be,  the  point  of  view  from  which  he  looked  at 
the  administrative  horizon.  This  tale,  which  is  evolved 
from  the  very  heart  of  the  Civil  Service,  may  also  serve 
to  show  some  of  the  evils  of  our  present  social  customs. 
Xavier  Rabourdin,  deeply  impressed  by  the  trials  and 
poverty  which  he  witnessed  in  the  lives  of  the  govern- 
ment clerks,  endeavored  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  their 


Bureaucracy.  15 

growing  deterioration.  He  found  it  in  those  petty  par- 
tial revolutions,  the  eddies,  as  it  were,  of  the  storm  of 
1789,  which  the  historians  of  great  social  movements 
neglect  to  inquire  into,  although  as  a  matter  of  fact  it 
is  they  which  have  made  our  manners  and  customs 
what  they  now  .  are. 

Formerly,  under  the  monarchy,  the  bureaucratic 
armies  did  not  exist.  The  clerks,  few  in  number, 
were  under  the  orders  of  a  prime  minister  who  com- 
municated with  the  sovereign  ;  thus  they  directly  served 
the  king.  The  superiors  of  these  zealous  servants  were 
simply  called  head-clerks.  In  those  branches  of  ad- 
ministration which  the  king  did  not  himself  dh-ect,  such 
for  instance  as  the  fermes  (the  public  domains  through- 
out the  country  on  which  a  revenue  was  levied),  the 
clerks  were  to  their  superior  what  the  clerks  of  a  busi- 
ness-house are  to  their  emploj-er ;  the}-  learned  a  science 
which  would  one  day  advance  them  to  prosperity.  Thus, 
all  points  of  the  circumference  were  fastened  to  the 
centre  and  derived  their  life  from  it.  The  result  was 
devotion  and  confidence.  Since  1789  the  State,  call  it 
the  Nation  if  you  like,  has  replaced  the  sovereign.  In- 
stead of  looking  directty  to  the  chief  magistrate  of  this 
nation,  the  clerks  have  become,  in  spite  of  our  fine  patri- 
otic ideas,  the  subsidiaries  of  the  government ;  their 
superiors  are  blown  about  by  the  winds  of  a  power  called 
"  the  administration,"  and  do  not  know  from  day  to  day 


16  Bureaucracy. 

where  they  may  be  on  the  morrow.  As  the  routine  of 
public  business  must  go  on,  a  certain  number  of  indis- 
pensable clerks  are  kept  in  their  places,  though  they 
hold  these  places  on  sufferance,  anxious  as  they  are  to 
retain  them.  Bureaucracy,  a  gigantic  power  set  in 
motion  by  dwarfs,  was  generated  in  this  way.  Though 
NapoleoU;  by  subordinating  all  things  and  all  men  to 
his  will,  retarded  for  a  time  the  influence  of  bureau- 
cracy (that  ponderous  curtain  hung  between  the  service 
to  be  done  and  the  man  who  orders  it),  it  was  perma- 
nenth'  organized  under  the  constitutional  government, 
which  was,  inevitably,  the  friend  of  all  mediocrities, 
the  lover  of  authentic  documents  and  accounts,  and  as 
meddlesome  as  an  old  tradeswoman.  Delighted  to  see 
the  various  ministers  constantly  struggling  against  the 
four  hundred  petty  minds  of  the  Elected  of  the  Cham- 
ber, with  their  ten  or  a  dozen  ambitious  and  dishonest 
leaders,  the  Civil  Service  officials  hastened  to  make 
themselves  essential  to  the  warfare  by  adding  their 
quota  of  assistance  under  the  form  of  written  action  ; 
they  created  a  power  of  inertia  and  named  it  "  Report." 
Let  us  explain  the  Report. 

When  the  kings  of  France  took  to  themselves  minis- 
ters, which  first  happened  under  Louis  XV.,  the}^  made 
them  render  reports  on  all  important  questions,  instead 
of  holding,  as  formerl}",  grand  councils  of  state  with 
the  nobles.    Under  the  constitutional  government,  the 


Bureaucracy.  17 

ministers  of  the  various  departments  were  insensibly 
led  by  their  bureaus  to  imitate  this  practice  of  kings. 
Their  time  being  taken  up  in  defending  themselves 
before  the  two  Chambers  and  the  court,  they  let  them- 
selves be  guided  by  the  leading-strings  of  the  Report. 
Nothing  important  was  ever  brought  before  the  govern- 
ment that  a  minister  did  not  say,  even  when  the  case 
was  urgent,  "  I  have  called  for  a  report."  The  Report 
thus  became,  both  as  to  the  matter  concerned  and  for 
the  minister  himself,  the  same  as  a  report  to  the  Chamber 
of  Deputies  on  a  question  of  laws,  —  namely,  a  disquisi- 
tion in  which  the  reasons  for  and  against  are  stated 
with  more  or  less  partiality.  No  real  result  is  attained ; 
the  minister,  like  the  Chamber,  is  fully  as  well  prepared 
before  as  after  the  report  is  rendered.  A  determina- 
tion, in  whatever  matter,  is  reached  in  an  instant.  Do 
what  we  will,  the  moment  comes  when  the  decision 
must  be  made.  The  greater  the  array  of  reasons  for 
and  against,  the  less  sound  will  be  the  judgment.  The 
finest  things  of  which  France  can  boast  have  been  ac- 
complished without  reports  and  where  decisions  were 
prompt  and  spontaneous.  The  dominant  law  of  a 
statesman  is  to  apply  precise  formulas  to  all  cases, 
after  the  manner  of  judges  and  physicians. 

Rabourdin,  who  said  to  himself:  "  A  minister  should 
have  decision,  should  know  public  affairs  and  direct  their 

course,"  saw  "Report"  rampant  throughout  France, 

2 


18  Bureaucracy* 

from  the  colonel  to  the  marshal,  from  the  commissary 
of  police  to  the  king,  from  the  prefects  to  the  ministers 
of  state,  from  the  Chamber  to  the  courts.  After  1818 
everything  was  discussed,  compared,  and  weighed,  either 
in  speech  or  writing ;  public  business  took  a  literary 
form.  France  went  to  ruin  in  spite  of  this  arraj'  of 
documents ;  dissertations  stood  in  place  of  action ;  a 
million  of  reports  were  written  ever}'  3"ear ;  bureaucracy^ 
was  enthroned  !  Records,  statistics,  documents,  failing 
which  France  would  have  been  ruined,  circumlocution, 
without  which  there  could  be  no  advance,  increased, 
multiplied;  and  grew  majestic.  From  that  day  forth 
bureaucracy  used  to  its  own  profit  the  mistrust  that 
stands  between  receipts  and  expenditures  ;  it  degraded 
the  administration  for  the  benefit  of  the  administrators  ; 
in  short,  it  spun  those  lilliputian  threads  which  have 
chained  France  to  Parisian  centralization,  —  as  if  from 
1500  to  1800  France  had  undertaken  nothing  for  want 
of  thirty  thousand  government  clerks !  In  fastening 
upon  public  offices,  like  a  mistletoe  on  a  pear-tree,  these 
officials  indemnified  themselves  amply,  and  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner. 

The  ministers,  compelled  to  obey  the  princes  or  the 
Chambers  who  impose  upon  them  the  distribution  of 
the  public  moneys,  and  forced  to  retain  the  workers  in 
office,  proceeded  to  diminish  salaries  and  increase  the 
number  of  those  workers,  thinking  that  if  more  persons 


Bureaucracy.  19 

were  emplojed  hy  government  the  stronger  the  govern- 
ment would  be.  And  yet  the  contrar}-  law  is  an  axiom 
written  on  the  universe ;  there  is  no  vigor  except  where 
there  are  few  active  principles.  Events  proved  in  July, 
1830,  the  error  of  the  materialism  of  the  Restoration. 
To  plant  a  government  in  the  hearts  of  a  nation  it  is 
necessary  to  bind  interests  to  it,  not  men.  The  gov- 
ernment-clerks being  led  to  detest  the  administrations 
which  lessened  both  their  salaries  and  their  importance, 
treated  them  as  a  courtesan  treats  an  aged  lover,  and 
gave  them  mere  work  for  money ;  a  state  of  things 
which  would  have  seemed  as  intolerable  to  the  admin- 
istration as  to  the  clerks,  had  the  two  parties  dared  to 
feel  each  other's  pulse,  or  had  the  higher  salaries  not 
succeeded  in  stifling  the  voices  of  the  lower.  Thus 
wholly  and  solely  occupied  in  retaining  his  place,  draw- 
ing his  pa}',  and  securing  a  pension,  the  government 
oflftcial  thought  everything  permissible  that  conduced  to 
these  results.  This  state  of  things  led  to  servility  on 
the  part  of  the  clerks  and  to  endless  intrigues  within 
the  various  departments,  where  the  humbler  clerks 
struggled  vainly  against  degenerate  members  of  the 
aristocracy,  who  sought  positions  in  the  government 
bureaus  for  their  ruined  sons. 

Superior  men  could  scarcely  bring  themselves  to 
tread  these  tortuous  ways,  to  stoop,  and  cringe,  and 
creep  through  the  mire  of  these  cloacas,  where  the  pres- 


20  Bureaucracy. 

ence  of  a  fine  mind  onl}'  alarmed  the  other  denizens. 
The  ambitious  man  of  genius  grows  old  in  obtaining  his 
triple  crown ;  he  does  not  follow  in  the  steps  of  Sixtus 
the  Fifth  merely  to  become  head  of  a  bureau.  No  one 
comes  or  staj'S  in  the  government  offices  but  idlers, 
incapables,  or  fools.  Thus  the  mediocrity  of  French 
administration  has  slowl}'  come  about.  Bureaucracy, 
made  up  entirely  of  pett}'-  minds,  stands  as  an  obstacle 
to  the  prosperity  of  the  nation  ;  delays  for  seven  j'cars, 
by  its  machinery,  the  project  of  a  canal  which  would 
have  stimulated  the  production  of  a  province ;  is  afraid 
of  everj^thing,  prolongs  procrastination,  and  perpetuates 
the  abuses  which  in  turn  perpetuate  and  consolidate 
itself.  Bureaucracy  holds  all  things  and  the  adminis- 
tration itself  in  leading  strings  ;  it  stifles  men  of  talent 
who  are  bold  enough  to  be  independent  of  it  or  to  en- 
lighten it  on  its  own  follies.  About  the  time  of  which 
we  write  the  pension  list  had  just  been  issued,  and  on 
it  Rabourdin  saw  the  name  of  an  underling  in  office 
rated  for  a  larger  sum  than  the  old  colonels,  maimed 
and  wounded  for  their  country.  In  that  fact  lies  the 
whole  history  of  bureaucracy. 

Another  evil,  brought  about  by  modern  customs, 
which  Rabourdin  counted  among  the  causes  of  this 
secret  demoralization,  was  the  fact  that  there  is  no  real 
subordination  in  the  administration  in  Paris  ;  complete 
equaUty  reigns  between  the  head  of  an  important  divi- 


Bureaucracy,  21 

sion  and  the  humblest  copying-clerk ;  one  is  as  power- 
ful as  the  other  in  an  arena  outside  of  which  each  lords 
it  in  his  own  way.  Education,  equally  distributed 
through  the  masses,  brings  the  son  of  a  porter  into  a 
government  ofBce  to  decide  the  fate  of  some  man  of 
merit  or  some  landed  proprietor  whose  door-bell  his 
father  may  have  answered.  The  last  comer  is  therefore 
on  equal  terms  with  the  oldest  veteran  in  the  service. 
A  wealthy  supernumerary  splashes  his  superior  as  he 
drives  his  tilbury  to  Longchamps  and  points  with  his 
whip  to  the  poor  father  of  a  family,  remarking  to  the 
pretty  woman  at  his  side,  "That's  my  chief"  The 
Liberals  call  this  state  of  things  Progress  ;  Rabourdin 
thought  it  Anarchy  at  the  heart  of  power.  He  saw 
how  it  resulted  in  restless  intrigues,  like  those  of  a 
harem  between  eunuchs  and  women  and  imbecile  sul- 
tans, or  the  petty  troubles  of  nuns  full  of  underhand 
vexations,  or  college  tyrannies,  or  diplomatic  manoeu- 
vrings  fit  to  terrify  an  ambassador,  all  put  in  motion 
to  obtain  a  fee  or  an  increase  of  salary ;  it  was  like 
the  hopping  of  fleas  harnessed  to  pasteboard  cars,  the 
spitefulness  of  slaves,  often  visited  on  the  minister  him- 
self. With  all  this  were  the  really  useful  men,  the 
workers,  victims  of  such  parasites ;  men  sincerely  de- 
voted to  their  country,  who  stood  vigorously  out  from 
the  background  of  the  other  incapables,  yet  who  were 
often  forced  to  succumb  through  unworthy  trickery. 


22  Bureaucracy. 

All  the  higher  offices  were  gained  through  parliamen- 
tary influence,  royalty  had  nothing  now  to  do  with 
them,  and  the  subordinate  clerks  became,  after  a 
time,  merel}^  the  running-gear  of  the  machine ;  the 
most  important  consideration  with  them  being  to  keep 
the  wheels  well  greased.  This  fatal  conviction  enter- 
ing some  of  the  best  minds  smothered  many  statements 
conscientiously  written  on  the  secret  evils  of  the  na- 
tional government ;  lowered  the  courage  of  many  hearts, 
and  corrupted  sterling  honest}-,  weary  of  injustice  and 
won  to  indifference  by  deteriorating  annoyances.  A 
clerk  in  the  employ  of  the  Rothchilds  corresponds  with 
all  England  ;  another,  in  a  government  office,  may  com- 
municate with  all  the  prefects ;  but  where  the  one 
learns  the  way  to  make  his  fortune,  the  other  loses  time 
and  health  and  life  to  no  avail.  An  undermining  evil 
lies  here.  Certainly  a  nation  does  not  seem  threatened 
with  immediate  dissolution  because  an  able  clerk  is 
sent  away  and  a  middling  sort  of  man  replaces  him. 
Unfortunately  for  the  welfare  of  nations  individual  men 
never  seem  essential  to  their  existence.  But  in  the 
long  run  when  the  belittling  process  is  fully  carried  out 
nations  will  disappear.  Every  one  who  seeks  instruc- 
tion on  this  point  can  look  at  Venice,  Madrid,  Amster- 
dam, Stockholm,  Rome  ;  all  places  which  were  formerly 
resplendent  with  mighty  powers  and  are  now  destroj'ed 
by  the  infiltrating  littleness  which  gradually  attained 


Bureaucracy.  23 

the  highest  eminence.  When  the  day  of  struggle 
came,  all  was  found  rotten,  the  State  succumbed  to  a 
weak  attack.  To  worship  the  fool  who  succeeds,  and 
not  to  grieve  over  the  fall  of  an  able  man  is  the  re- 
sult of  our  melancholy  education,  of  our  manners  and 
customs  which  drive  men  of  intellect  into  disgust,  and 
genius  to  despair. 

What  a  difficult  undertaking  is  the  rehabilitation  of 
the  Civil  Service  while  the  liberal  cries  aloud  in  his 
newspapers  that  the  salaries  of  clerks  are  a  standing 
theft,  calls  the  items  of  the  budget  a  cluster  of  leeches, 
and  every  year  demands  why  the  nation  should  be 
saddled  with  a  thousand  million  of  taxes.  In  Monsieur 
Rabourdin's  e3'es  the  clerk  in  relation  to  the  budget  was 
ver}"  much  what  the  gambler  is  to  the  game  ;  that  which 
he  wins  he  puts  back  again.  All  remuneration  implies 
something  furnished.  To  pay  a  man  a  thousand  francs 
a  j^ear  and  demand  his  whole  time  was  surely  to  organ- 
ize theft  and  povert3\  A  gallej'-slave  costs  nearlj^  as 
much,  and  does  less.  But  to  expect  a  man  whom  the 
State  remunerated  with  twelve  thousand  francs  a  j'ear 
to  devote  himself  to  his  country  was  a  profitable  con- 
tract for  both  sides,  fit  to  allure  all  capacities. 

These  reflections  had  led  Rabourdin  to  desire  the 
recasting  of  the  clerical  oflflcial  staflT.  To  emplo}"  fewer 
men,  to  double  or  treble  salaries,  and  do  away  with  pen- 
sions, to  choose  only  young  clerks  (as  did  Napoleon, 


24  Bureaucracy, 

Louis  XIV.,  Richelieu,  and  Ximenes),  but  to  keep  them 
long  and  train  them  for  the  higher  offices  and  greatest 
honors,  these  were  tlie  chief  features  of  a  reform  which 
if  carried  out  would  be  as  beneficial  to  the  State  as 
to  the  clerks  themselves.  It  is  difficult  to  recount 
in  detail,  chapter  by  chapter,  a  plan  which  embraced 
the  whole  budget  and  continued  down  through  the 
minutest  details  of  administration  in  order  to  keep 
the  whole  sj^nthetical ;  but  perhaps  a  slight  sketch  of 
the  principal  reforms  will  suffice  for  those  who  under- 
stand such  matters,  as  well  as  for  those  who  are  wholly 
ignorant  of  the  administrative  system.  Though  the 
historian's  position  is  rather  hazardous  in  reproducing 
a  plan  which  may  be  thought  the  politics  of  a  chimney- 
corner,  it  is,  nevertheless,  necessary  to  sketch  it  so  as 
to  explain  the  author  of  it  by  his  own  work.  Were  the 
recital  of  his  efforts  omitted,  the  reader  would  not  be- 
lieve the  narrator's  word  if  he  merely  delared  the  talent 
and  the  courage  of  this  official. 

Rabourdin's  plan  divided  the  government  into  three 
ministries,  or  departments.  He  thought  that  if  the 
France  of  former  days  possessed  brains  strong  enough 
to  comprehend  in  one  sj^stem  both  foreign  and  domes- 
tic affairs,  the  France  of  to-day  was  not  likely  to  be 
without  its  Mazarin,  its  Suger,  its  Sully,  its  de  Choiseul, 
or  Its  Colbert  to  direct  even  vast  administrative  depart- 
ments.    Besides,  constitutionally  speaking,  three  min- 


Bureaucracy.  25 

isters  will  agree  better  than  seven ;  and,  in  the  re- 
stricted number  there  is  less  chance  for  mistaken 
choice  ;  moreover,  it  might  be  that  the  kingdom  would 
some  day  escape  from  those  perpetual  ministerial  oscil- 
lations which  interfered  with  all  plans  of  foreign  policy 
and  prevented  all  ameliorations  of  home  rule.  In  Aus- 
tria, where  many  diverse  united  nations  present  so 
many  conflicting  interests  to  be  conciliated  and  carried 
forward  under  one  crown,  two  statesmen  alone  bear  the 
burden  of  public  affairs  and  are  not  overwhelmed  by  it. 
"Was  France  less  prolific  of  poUtical  capacities  than 
Germany?  The  rather  silly  game  of  what  are  called 
"  constitutional  institutions  "  carried  beyond  bounds  has 
ended,  as  everybody  knows,  in  requiring  a  great  many 
offices  to  satisfy  the  multifarious  ambition  of  the  mid- 
dle classes.  It  seemed  to  Rabourdin,  in  the  first  place, 
natural  to  unite  the  ministry  of  war  with  the  ministry 
of  the  navy.  To  his  thinking  the  navy  was  one  of  the 
current  expenses  of  the  war  department,  like  the  artil- 
lery, cavalry,  infantr}^,  and  commissariat.  Surely  it 
was  an  absurdity  to  give  separate  administrations  to 
admirals  and  marshals  when  both  were  employed  to  one 
end,  namely,  the  defense  of  the  nation,  the  overthrow  of 
an  enemy,  and  the  security  of  the  national  possessions. 
The  ministry  of  the  interior  ought  in  like  manner  to 
combine  the  departments  of  commerce,  police,  and 
finances,  or  it  belied  its  own  name.     To  the  ministry  of 


26  Bureaucracy. 

foreign  affairs  belonged  the  administration  of  justice, 
the  household  of  the  king,  and  all  that  concerned  arts, 
sciences,  and  helles  lettres.  All  patronage  ought  to 
flow  directly  from  the  sovereign.  Such  ministries  ne- 
cessitated the  supremacy  of  a  council.  Each  required 
the  work  of  two  hundred  officials,  and  no  more,  in.  its 
central  administration  offices,  where  Rabourdin  pro- 
posed that  they  should  live,  as  in  former  daj's  under  the 
monarchy.  Taking  the  sum  of  twelve  thousand  francs  a 
year  for  each  official  as  an  average,  he  estimated  seven 
milHons  as  the  cost  of  the  whole  body  of  such  officials, 
which  actually  stood  at  twenty  in  the  budget. 

By  thus  reducing  the  ministers  to  three  heads  he 
suppressed  departments  which  had  come  to  be  useless, 
together  with  the  enormous  costs  of  their  maintenance 
in  Paris.  He  proved  that  an  arrondissement  could  be 
managed  by  ten  men ;  a  prefecture  by  a  dozen  at  the 
most;  which  reduced  the  entire  civil  service  force 
throughout  France  to  five  thousand  men,  exclusive  of 
the  departments  of  war  and  justice.  Under  this  plan 
the  clerks  of  the  courts  were  charged  with  the  system 
of  loans,  and  the  ministry  of  the  interior  with  that  of 
registration  A.id  the  management  of  domains.  Thus 
Rabourdin  united  in  one  centre  all  divisions  that  were 
allied  in  nature.  The  mortgage  system,  inheritance, 
and  registration  did  not  pass  outside  of  their  own  sphere 
of  action  and  only  required  three  additional  clerks  in 


Bureaucracy,  27 

the  justice  courts  and  three  in  the  royal  courts.  The 
steady  application  of  this  principle  brought  Eabourdin 
to  reforms  in  the  finance  system.  He  merged  the  col- 
lection of  revenue  into  one  channel,  taxing  consumption 
in  bulk  instead  of  taxing  property.  According  to  his 
ideas,  consumption  was  the  sole  thing  properly  taxable 
in  times  of  peace.  Land-taxes  should  always  be  held 
in  reserve  in  case  of  war ;  for  then  only  could  the  State 
justly  demand  sacrifices  from  the  soil,  which  was  in 
danger ;  but  in  times  of  peace  it  was  a  serious  political 
fault  to  burden  it  beyond  a  certain  limit ;  otherwise  it 
could  never  be  depended  on  in  great  emergencies. 
Thus  a  loan  should  be  put  on  the  market  when  the 
country  was  tranquil,  for  at  such  times  it  could  be 
placed  at  par,  instead  of  at  fifty  per  cent  loss  as  in  bad 
times  ;  in  war  times  resort  should  be  had  to  a  land-tax. 

"  The  invasion  of  1814  and  1815,"  Rabourdin  would 
say  to  his  friends,  "  founded  in  France  and  practically 
explained  an  institution  which  neither  Law  nor  Napo- 
leon had  been  able  to  estabUsh,  —  I  mean  Credit.'* 

Unfortunately,  Xavier  considered  the  true  principles 
of  this  admirable  machine  of  civil  service  very  little 
understood  at  the  period  when  he  began  his  labor  of  re- 
form in  1820.  His  scheme  levied  a  toll  on  consumption 
by  means  of  direct  taxation  and  suppressed  the  whole 
machinery  of  indirect  taxation.  The  levying  of  the 
taxes  was  simplified  b}'  a  single  classification  of  a  great 


28  Bureaucracy. 

number  of  articles.  This  did  away  with  the  more  har- 
assing customs  at  the  gates  of  the  cities,  and  obtained 
the  largest  revenues  from  the  remainder,  by  lessening 
the  enormous  expense  of  collecting  them.  To  lighten 
the  burden  of  taxation  is  not,  in  matters  of  finance,  to 
diminish  the  taxes,  but  to  assess  them  better ;  if  light- 
ened, 3^ou  increase  the  volume  of  business  by  giving 
it  freer  play;  the  individual  pays  less  and  the  State 
receives  more.  This  reform,  which  may  seem  im- 
mense, rests  on  very  simple  machinery.  Rabourdin 
regarded  the  tax  on  personal  property  as  the  most 
trustworthy  representative  of  general  consumption.  In- 
dividual fortunes  are  usually  revealed  in  France  by 
rentals,  by  the  number  of  servants,  horses,  carriages, 
and  luxuries,  the  costs  of  which  are  all  to  the  interest 
of  the  public  treasury.  Houses  and  what  they  con- 
tain vary  comparatively  but  little,  and  are  not  liable  to 
disappear.  After  pointing  out  the  means  of  making 
a  tax-list  on  personal  property  which  should  be  more 
impartial  than  the  existing  list,  Eabourdin  assessed  the 
sums  to  be  brought  into  the  treasury  by  indirect  taxa- 
tion as  so  much  per  cent  on  each  individual  share.  A 
tax  is  a  levy  of  money  on  things  or  persons  under  dis- 
guises that  are  more  or  less  specious.  These  disguises, 
excellent  when  the  object  is  to  extort  money,  become 
ridiculous  in  the  present  day,  when  the  class  on  which 
the  taxes  weigh  the  heaviest  knows  why  the   State 


Bureaucracy,  29 

imposes  them  and  by  what  machinery  they  are  given 
back.  In  fact  the  budget  is  not  a  strong-box  to  hold 
what  is  put  into  it,  but  a  watering-pot ;  the  more  it 
takes  in  and  the  more  it  pours  out  the  better  for  the 
prosperity  of  the  country.  Therefore,  supposing  there 
are  six  millions  of  tax-payers  in  easy  circumstances 
(Rabourdin  proved  their  existence,  including  the  rich) 
is  it  not  better  to  make  them  pay  a  duty  on  the  con- 
sumption of  wine,  which  would  not  be  more  offensive 
than  that  on  doors  and  windows  and  would  return 
a  hundred  millions,  rather  than  harass  them  by  taxing 
the  thing  itself.  By  this  system  of  taxation,  each  indi- 
vidual tax-payer  pays  less  in  reality,  while  the  State 
receives  more,  and  consumers  profit  by  a  vast  reduc- 
tion in  the  price  of  things  which  the  State  releases  from 
its  perpetual  and  harassing  interference.  Rabourdin's 
scheme  retained  a  tax  on  the  cultivation  of  vineyards, 
so  as  to  protect  that  industry  from  the  too  great  abun- 
dance of  its  own  products.  Then,  to  reach  the  con- 
sumption of  the  poorer  tax-payers,  the  licenses  of  retail 
dealers  were  taxed  according  to  the  population  of  the 
neighborhoods  in  which  they  lived. 

In  this  way,  the  State  would  receive  without  cost  or 
vexatious  hindrances  an  enormous  revenue  under  three 
forms ;  namel}^  a  duty  on  wine,  on  the  cultivation  of 
vineyards,  and  on  licenses,  where  now  an  irritating 
array  of  taxes  existed  as  a  burden  on  itself  and  its 


30  Bureaucracy, 

officials.  Taxation  was  thus  imposed  upon  the  rich 
without  overburdening  the  poor.  To  give  another  ex- 
ample. Suppose  a  share  assessed  to  each  person  of 
one  or  two  francs  for  the  consumption  of  salt  and  you 
obtain  ten  or  a  dozen  millions ;  the  modern  gahelle 
disappears,  the  poor  breathe  freer,  agriculture  is  re- 
lieved, the  State  receives  as  much,  and  no  tax-payer 
complains.  All  persons,  whether  they  belong  to  the 
industrial  classes  or  to  the  capitalists,  will  see  at  once 
the  benefits  of  a  tax  so  assessed  when  they  discover 
how  commerce  increases,  and  life  is  ameliorated  in  the 
country  districts.  In  short,  the  State  will  see  from 
year  to  year  the  number  of  her  well-to-do  tax-payers 
increasing.  By  doing  awa}^  with  the  machinery  of 
Indirect  taxation,  which  is  very  costly'  (a  State,  as  it 
were,  within  the  State),  both  the  public  finances  and  the 
individual  tax-payer  are  greatly  benefited,  not  to  speak 
of  the  saving  in  costs  of  collecting. 

The  whole  subject  is  indeed  less  a  question  of  finance 
than  a  question  of  government.  The  State  should  pos- 
sess nothing  of  its  own,  neither  forests,  nor  mines,  nor 
public  works.  That  it  should  be  the  owner  of  domains 
was,  in  Rabourdin's  opinion,  an  administrative  contra- 
diction. The  State  cannot  turn  its  possessions  to  profit 
and  it  deprives  itself  of  taxes  ;  it  thus  loses  two  forms 
of  production.  As  to  the  manufactories  of  the  govern- 
ment, they  are  just  as  unreasonable  in  the  sphere  of 


Bureaucracy,  31 

industry.  The  State  obtains  products  at  a  higher  cost 
than  those  of  commerce,  produces  them  more  slowly, 
and  loses  its  tax  upon  the  industry,  the  maintenance  of 
which  it,  in  turn,  reduces.  Can  it  be  thought  a  proper 
method  of  governing  a  country  to  manufacture  instead 
of  promoting  manufactures?  to  possess  property  in- 
stead of  creating  more  possessions  and  more  diverse 
ones?  In  Rabourdin's  system  the  State  exacted  no 
money  security ;  he  allowed  only  mortgage  securities ; 
and  for  this  reason :  Either  the  State  holds  the  security 
in  specie,  and  that  embarrasses  business  and  the  move- 
ment of  monej^ ;  or  it  invests  it  at  a  higher  rate  than 
the  State  itself  pays,  and  that  is  a  contemptible  rob- 
bery; or  else  it  loses  on  the  transaction,  and  that  is 
folly  ;  moreover,  if  it  is  obliged  at  an}"  time  to  dispose 
of  a  mass  of  these  securities  it  gives  rise  in  certain  cases 
to  terrible  bankruptc}'. 

The  territorial  tax  did  not  entirely  disappear  in 
Eabourdin's  plan,  — he  kept  a  minute  portion  of  it  as 
a  point  of  departure  in  case  of  war ;  but  the  productions 
of  the  soil  were  freed,  and  industry,  finding  raw  material 
at  a  low  price,  could  compete  with  foreign  nations  with- 
out the  deceptive  help  of  customs.  The  rich  carried  on 
the  administration  of  the  provinces  without  compensa- 
tion except  that  of  receiving  a  peerage  under  certain 
conditions.  Magistrates,  learned  bodies,  officers  of  the 
lower  grades  found  their  services  honorably  rewarded ; 


32  Bureaucracy, 

no  man  employed  by  government  failed  to  obtain  great 
consideration  through  the  value  and  extent  of  his 
labors  and  the  excellence  of  his  salary ;  every  one  was 
able  to  provide  for  his  own  future  and  France  was  de- 
livered from  the  cancer  of  pensions.  As  a  result  Ra- 
bourdin's  scheme  exhibited  only  seven  hundred  millions 
of  expenditures  and  twelve  hundred  millions  of  receipts. 
A  saving  of  five  hundred  millions  annually  had  far 
more  virtue  than  the  accumulation  of  a  sinking  fund 
whose  dangers  were  plainly  to  be  seen.  In  that  fund 
the  State,  according  to  Rabourdin,  became  a  stock- 
holder, just  as  it  persisted  in  being  a  land-holder  and  a 
manufacturer.  To  bring  about  these  reforms  without 
too  roughly  jarring  the  existing  state  of  things  or  in- 
curring a  Saint-Bartholomew  of  clerks,  Rabourdin  con- 
sidered that  an  evolution  of  twenty  j^ears  would  be 
required. 

Such  were  the  thoughts  maturing  in  Rabourdin's 
mind  ever  since  his  promised  place  had  been  given  to 
Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere,  a  man  of  sheer  incapacity. 
This  plan,  so  vast  apparently  yet  so  simple  in  point  of 
fact,  which  did  away  with  so  many  large  staffs  and  so 
many  little  offices  all  equally  useless,  required  for  its 
presentation  to  the  public  mind  close  calculations, 
precise  statistics,  and  self-evident  proof.  Rabourdin 
had  long  studied  the  budget  under  its  double  aspect  of 
ways  and  means  and  of  expenditure.     Many  a  night 


Bureaucracy.  33 

he  had  lain  awake  unknown  to  his  wife.  But  so  far  he 
had  only  dared  to  conceive  the  plan  and  fit  it  pros- 
pectively to  the  administrative  skeleton ;  all  of  which 
counted  for  nothing,  —  he  must  gain  the  ear  of  a  minis- 
ter capable  of  appreciating  his  ideas.  Kabourdin's  suc- 
cess depended  on  the  tranquil  condition  of  political  af- 
fairs, which  up  to  this  time  were  still  unsettled.  He  had 
not  considered  the  government  as  permanently  secure 
until  three  hundred  deputies  at  least  had  the  courage  to 
form  a  compact  majority  systematically  ministerial.  An 
administration  founded  on  that  basis  had  come  into 
power  since  Rabourdin  had  finished  his  elaborate  plan. 
At  this  time  the  luxury  of  peace  under  the  Bourbons 
had  eclipsed  the  warlike  luxury  of  the  days  when 
France  shone  like  a  vast  encampment,  prodigal  and 
magnificent  because  it  was  victorious.  After  the  Span- 
ish campaign,  the  administration  seemed  to  enter  upon 
an  era  of  tranquillit}"  in  which  some  good  might  be 
accomplished ;  and  three  months  before  the  opening  of 
our  story  a  new  reign  had  begun  without  any  apparent 
opposition  ;  for  the  liberalism  of  the  Left  had  welcomed 
Charles  X.  with  as  much  enthusiasm  as  the  Right. 
Even  clear-sighted  and  suspicious  persons  were  misled. 
The  moment  seemed  propitious  for  Rabourdin.  What 
could  better  conduce  to  the  stability  of  the  government 
than  to  propose  and  carry  through  a  reform  whose  bene- 
ficial results  were  to  be  so  vast? 

3 


34  Bureaucracy. 

Never  had  Rabourdin  seemed  so  anxious  and  preoc- 
cupied as  he  now  did  in  the  mornings  as  he  walked  from 
his  house  to  the  ministry,  or  at  half-past  four  in  the 
afternoon,  when  he  returned.  Madame  Rabourdin,  on 
her  part,  disconsolate  over  her  wasted  life,  weary  of 
secretly  working  to  obtain  a  few  luxuries  of  dress,  never 
appeared  so  bitterly  discontented  as  now  ;  but,  like  any 
wife  who  is  really  attached  to  her  husband,  she  consid- 
ered it  unworthy  of  a  superior  woman  to  condescend  to 
the  shameful  devices  by  which  the  wives  of  some  offi- 
cials eke  out  the  insufficiency  of  their  husband's  salary. 
This  feeling  made  her  refuse  all  intercourse  with  Mad- 
ame Colleville,  then  very  intimate  with  Francois  Keller, 
whose  parties  eclipsed  those  of  the  rue  Duphot.  Never- 
theless, she  mistook  the  quietude  of  the  political  thinker 
and  the  preoccupation  of  the  intrepid  worker  for  the 
apathetic  torpor  of  an  official  broken  down  by  the  dul- 
ness  of  routine,  vanquished  by  that  most  hateful  of  all 
miseries,  the  mediocrity  that  simplj^  earns  a  living ;  and 
she  groaned  at  being  married  to  a  man  without  energy. 

Thus  it  was  that  about  this  period  in  their  lives  she 
resolved  to  take  the  making  of  her  husband's  fortune  on 
herself;  to  thrust  him  at  any  cost  into  a  higher  sphere, 
and  to  hide  from  him  the  secret  springs  of  her  machina- 
tions. She  carried  into  all  her  plans  the  independence 
of  ideas  which  characterized  her,  and  was  proud  to 
tliink  that  she  could  rise  above  other  women  by  sharing 


Bureaucracy.  35 

none  of  their  petty  prejudices  and  by  keeping  herself 
untrammelled  by  the  restraints  which  societ}^  imposes. 
In  her  anger  she  resolved  to  fight  fools  with  their  own 
weapons,  and  to  make  herself  a  fool  if  need  be.  She 
saw  things  coming  to  a  crisis.  The  time  was  favorable. 
Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere,  attacked  by  a  dangerous 
illness,  was  likely  to  die  in  a  few  days.  If  Rabourdin 
succeeded  him,  his  talents  (for  Celestine  did  vouchsafe 
him  an  administrative  gift)  would  be  so  thoroughly 
appreciated  that  the  oflSce  of  Master  of  petitions,  for- 
merly promised,  would  now  be  given  to  him ;  she  fan- 
cied she  saw  him  king's  commissioner,  presenting  bills 
to  the  Chambers  and  defending  them ;  then  indeed  she 
could  help  him  ;  she  would  even  be,  if  needful,  his  secre- 
tary ;  she  would  sit  up  all  night  to  do  the  work !  All 
this  to  drive  in  the  Bois  in  a  pretty  carriage,  to  equal 
Madame  Delphine  de  Nucingen,  to  raise  her  salon  to 
the  level  of  Madame  Colleville's,  to  be  invited  to  the 
great  ministerial  solemnities,  to  win  listeners  and  make 
them  talk  of  her  as  "  Madame  Rabourdin  de  something 
or  other "  (she  had  not  yet  determined  on  the  estate) , 
just  as  they  did  of  Madame  Firmiani,  Madame  d'Espard, 
Madame  d'Aiglemont,  Madame  de  Carigliano,  and  thus 
eflTace  forever  the  odious  name  of  Rabourdin. 

These  secret  schemes  brought  some  changes  into  the 
household.  Madame  Rabourdin  began  to  walk  with  a 
firm  step  in  the  path  of  debt.    She  set  up  a  manservant, 


86  Bureaucracy, 

and  put  him  in  livery  of  brown  cloth  with  red  pipings, 
she  renewed  parts  of  her  furniture,  hung  new  papers  on 
the  walls,  adorned  her  salon  with  plants  and  flowers, 
alwaj^s  fresh,  and  crowded  it  with  knick-knacks  that 
were  then  in  vogue ;  then  she,  who  had  always  shown 
scruples  as  to  her  personal  expenses,  did  not  hesitate 
to  put  her  dress  in  keej^ing  with  the  rank  to  which  she 
aspired,  the  profits  of  which  were  discounted  in  several 
of  the  shops  where  she  equipped  herself  for  war.  To 
make  her  "  Wednesdays"  fashionable  she  gave  a  dinner 
on  Fridays,  the  guests  being  expected  to  pay  their 
return  visit  and  take  a  cup  of  tea  on  the  following  Wed- 
nesday. She  chose  her  guests  cleverly  among  influen- 
tial deputies  or  other  persons  of  note  who,  sooner  or 
later,  might  advance  her  interests.  In  short,  she  gath- 
ered an  agreeable  and  befitting  circle  about  her.  People 
amused  themselves  at  her  house  ;  they  said  so  at  least, 
which  is  quite  enough  to  attract  societ}^  in  Paris.  Ra- 
bourdin  was  so  absorbed  in  completing  his  great  and 
serious  work  that  he  took  no  notice  of  the  sudden  reap- 
pearance of  luxury  in  the  bosom  of  his  famil3^ 

Thus  the  wife  and  the  husband  were  besieging  the 
same  fortress,  working  on  parallel  lines,  but  without 
each  other's  knowledge. 


Bureaucracy.  37 


n. 

MONSIEUR   DES   LUPEAULX. 

At  the  ministry  to  which  Rabourdin  belonged  there 
flourished,  as  general-secretary,  a  certain  Monsieur 
Clement  Chardin  des  Lupeaulx,  one  of  those  men  whom 
the  tide  of  political  events  sends  to  the  surface  for  a 
few  years,  then  engulfs  on  a  stormy  night,  but  whom 
we  find  again  on  a  distant  shore,  tossed  up  like  the 
carcass  of  a  wrecked  ship  which  still  seems  to  have 
life  in  her.  We  ask  ourselves  if  that  derelict  could 
ever  have  held  goodly  merchandize  or  served  a  high 
emprize,  co-operated  in  some  defence,  held  up  the 
trappings  of  a  throne,  or  borne  away  the  corpse  of 
a  monarchy.  At  this  particular  time  Clement  des  Lu- 
peaulx (the  "  Lupeaulx"  absorbed  the  "  Chardin)  "  had 
reached  his  culminating  period.  In  the  most  illustrious 
lives  as  in  the  most  obscure,  in  animals  as  in  secretary- 
generals,  there  is  a  zenith  and  there  is  a  nadir,  a  period 
when  the  fur  is  magnificent,  the  fortune  dazzling.  In 
the  nomenclature  which  we  derive  from  fabulists,  des 
Lupeaulx  belonged  to  the  species  Bertrand,  and  was 
always  in  search  of  Batons.    As  he  is  one  of  the  princi- 


38  Bureaucracy, 

pal  actors  in  this  drama  he  deserves  a  description,  all 
the  more  precise  because  the  revolution  of  July  has 
suppressed  his  oflSce,  eminently  useful  as  it  was,  to  a 
constitutional  ministry. 

Moralists  usually  employ  their  weapons  against  ob- 
trusive abominations.  In  their  eyes,  crime  belongs  to 
the  assizes  or  the  police-courts  ;  but  the  socially  refined 
evils  escape  their  ken ;  the  adroitness  that  triumphs 
under  shield  of  the  Code  is  above  them  or  beneath 
them ;  they  have  neither  eye-glass  nor  telescope ; 
they  want  good  stout  horrors  easily  visible.  With  their 
eyes  fixed  on  the  carnivora,  they  pay  no  attention  to 
the  reptiles ;  happily,  they  abandon  to  the  writers  of 
comedy  the  shading  and  colorings  of  a  Chardin  des 
Lupeaulx.  Vain  and  egotistical,  supple  and  proud, 
libertine  and  gourmand,  grasping  from  the  pressure  of 
debt,  discreet  as  a  tomb  out  of  which  nought  issues  to 
contradict  the  epitaph  intended  for  the  passer's  eye, 
bold  and  fearless  when  soliciting,  good-natured  and 
witty  in  all  acceptations  of  the  word,  a  timelj^  jester, 
full  of  tact,  knowing  how  to  compromise  others  by  a 
glance  or  a  nudge,  shrinking  from  no  mudhole,  but 
gracefully  leaping  it,  intrepid  Voltairean,  3'et  punctual 
at  mass  if  a  fashionable  company  could  be  met  in  Saint 
Thomas  Aquinas,  —  such  a  man  as  this  secretary- 
general  resembled,  in  one  way  or  another,  all  the  medi- 
ocrities who  form  the  kernel   of  the  political  world. 


Bureaucracy.  39 

Knowing  in  the  science  of  human  nature,  he  assumed 
the  character  of  a  listener,  and  none  was  ever  more 
attentive.  Not  to  awaken  suspicion  he  was  flattering 
ad  nauseam^  insinuating  as  a  perfume,  and  cajoling  as 
a  woman. 

Des  Lupeaulx  was  just  forty  years  old.     His  youth 
had  long  been  a  vexation  to  him,  for  he  felt  that  the 
making   of  his   career  depended  on  his   becoming   a 
deputy.      How   had  he  reached  his  present  position? 
may  be  asked.     By  very  simple  means.     He  began  by 
taking  charge  of  certain  delicate  missions  which  can 
be  given  neither  to  a  man  who  respects  himself  nor  to 
a  man  who  does  not  respect  himself,  but  are  confided 
to  grave  and  enigmatic  individuals  who  can  be  acknowl- 
edged or  disavowed  at  will.     His  business  was  that  of 
being    always    compromised ;    but    his    fortunes   were 
pushed   as   much  by  defeat  as  by  success.     He  well 
understood  that  under  the  Restoration,  a  period  of  con- 
tinual compromises  between  men,  between  things,  be- 
tween accomplished  facts  and  other  facts  looming  on 
the  horizon,  it  was  all-important  for  the  ruling  powers  to 
have  a  household  drudge.    Observe  in  a  family  some  old 
charwoman  who  can  make  beds,  sweep  the  floors,  carry 
away  the  dirt}'  linen,  who  knows  where  the  silver  is 
kept,  how  the  creditors  should  be  pacified,  what  persons 
should  be  let  in  and  who  must  be  kept  out  of  the  house, 
and  such  a  creature,  even  if  she  has  all  the  vices,  and 


40  Bureaucracy. 

is  dirty,  decrepit,  and  toothless,  or  puts  into  the  lottery 
and  steals  thirty  sous  a  day  for.her  stake,  and  you  will 
find  the  masters  like  her  from  habit,  talk  and  consult  in 
her  hearing  upon  even  critical  matters  ;  she  comes  and 
goes,  suggests  resources,  gets  on  the  scent  of  secrets, 
brings  the  rouge  or  the  shawl  at  the  right  moment,  lets 
herself  be  scolded  and  pushed  downstairs,  and  the  next 
morning  reappears  smiling  with  an  excellent  bouillon. 
No  matter  how  high  a  statesman  may  stand,  he  is  certain 
to  have  some  household  drudge,  before  whom  he  is  weak, 
undecided,  disputatious  with  fate,  self-questioning,  self- 
answering,  and  buckling  for  the  fight.  Such  a  familiar 
is  like  the  soft  wood  of  savages,  which,  when  rubbed 
against  the  hard  wood,  strikes  fire.  Sometimes  great 
geniuses  illumine  themselves  in  this  way.  Napoleon 
lived  with  Berthier,  Richelieu  with  Pere  Joseph;  des 
Lupeaulx  was  the  familiar  of  everybody^  He  continued 
friends  with  fallen  ministers  and  made  himself  their 
intermediary  with  their  successors,  diffusing  thus  the 
perfume  of  the  last  flatterj-  and  the  first  compliment. 
He  well  understood  how  to  arrange  all  the  little  matters 
which  a  statesman  has  no  leisure  to  attend  to.  He  saw 
necessities  as  they  arose ;  he  obeyed  well ;  he  could 
gloss  a  base  act  with  a  jest  and  get  the  whole  value  of 
it ;  and  he  chose  for  the  services  he  thus  rendered  those 
that  the  recipients  were  not  likely  to  forget. 

Thus,  when  it  was  necessary  to  cross  the  ditch  be- 


Bureaucracy,  41 

tween  the  Empire  and  the  Restoratipn,  at  a  time  when 
every  one  was  looking  about  for  planks,  and  the  curs 
of  the  Empire  were  howling  their  devotion  right  and 
left,  des  Lupeaulx  borrowed  large  sums  from  the  usu- 
rers and  crossed  the  frontier.  Risking  all  to  win  all,  he 
bought  up  Louis  XVIII.'s  most  pressing  debts,  and  was 
the  first  to  settle  nearly  three  millions  of  them  at 
twenty  per  cent — for  he  was  luck}"  enough  to  be  backed 
by  Gobseck  in  1814  and  1815.  It  is  true  that  Messrs. 
Gobseck,  Werdet,  and  Gigonnet  swallowed  the  profits, 
but  des  Lupeaulx  had  agreed  that  they  should  have 
them  ;  he  was  not  playing  for  a  stake ;  he  challenged  the 
bank,  as  it  were,  knowing  very  well  that  the  king  was 
•not  a  man  to  forget  this  debt  of  honor.  Des  Lupeaulx 
was  not  mistaken ;  he  was  appointed  Master  of  peti- 
tions, Knight  of  the  order  of  Saint  Louis,  and  officer  of 
the  Legion  of  honor.  Once  on  the  ladder  of  political 
success,  his  clever  mind  looked  about  for  the  means 
to  maintain  his  foothold ;  for  in  the  fortified  city  into 
which  he  had  wormed  himself,  generals  do  not  long 
keep  useless  mouths.  So  to  his  general  trade  of  house- 
hold drudge  and  go-between  he  added  that  of  gratuitous 
consultation  on  the  secret  maladies  of  power. 

After  discovering  in  the  so-called  superior  men  of 
the  Restoration  their  utter  inferiority  in  comparison 
with  the  events  which  had  brought  them  to  the  front, 
he  overcame  their  political  mediocrity  by  putting  into 


/  JrrM->KilA 


42  Bureaucracy. 

their  mouths,  at  «  crisis,  the  word  of  command  for 
which  men  of  real  talent  were  listening.  It  must  not 
be  thought  that  this  word  was  the  outcome  of  his  own 
mind.  Were  it  so,  des  Lupeaulx  would  have  been  a 
man  of  genius,  whereas  he  was  only  a  man  of  talent. 
He  went  everywhere,  collected  opinions,  sounded  con- 
sciences, and  caught  all  the  tones  the}^  gave  out.  He 
gathered  knowledge  like  a  true  and  indefatigable  politi- 
cal bee.  This  walking  Bayle  dictionary  did  not  act, 
however,  like  that  famous  lexicon ;  he  did  not  report 
all  opinions  without  drawing  his  own  conclusions ;  he 
had  the  talent  of  a  fly  which  drops  plumb  upon  the 
best  bit  of  meat  in  the  middle  of  a  kitchen.  In  this 
way  he  came  to  be  regarded  as  an  indispensable  helper 
to  statesmen.  A  belief  in  his  capacit}^  had  taken  such 
deep  root  in  all  minds  that  the  more  ambitious  public 
men  felt  it  was  necessarj^  to  compromise  des  Lupeaulx 
in  some  wa}^  to  prevent  his  rising  higher ;  they  made 
up  to  him  for  his  subordinate  pubhc  position  by  their 
secret  confidence. 

Nevertheless,  feeling  that  such  men  were  dependent 
on  him,  this  gleaner  of  ideas  exacted  certain  dues.  He 
received  a  salary  on  the  staff  of  the  National  Guard, 
where  he  held  a  sinecure  which  was  paid  for  by  the  city 
of  Paris ;  he  was  government  commissioner  to  a  secret 
society ;  and  filled  a  position  of  superintendence  in  the 
royal  household.      His   two   official    posts   which   ap- 


Bureaucracy.  43 

peared  on  the  budget  were  those  of  secretar3^-general 
to  Ins  ministry  and  Master  of  petitions.  What  he  now 
wanted  was  to  be  made  commander  of  the  Legion  of 
honor,  gentleman  of  the  bed-chamber,  count,  and  deput}-. 
To  be  elected  deputy  it  was  necessary  to  pay  taxes  to  the 
amount  of  a  thousand  francs  ;  and  the  miserable  home- 
stead of  the  des  Lupeaulx  was  rated  at  onl}^  five  hun- 
dred. Where  could  he  get  money  to  build  a  mansion 
and  surround  it  with  sufficient  domain  to  throw  dust  in 
the  ej'es  of  a  constituency?  Though  he  dined  out 
every  day,  and  was  lodged  for  the  last  nine  years  at 
the  cost  of  the  State,  and  driven  about  in  the  minister's 
equipage,  des  Lupeaulx  possessed  absolutely  nothing,  at 
the  time  when  our  tale  opens,  but  thirty  thousand  francs 
of  debt  —  undisputed  propert3\  A  marriage  might  float 
him  and  pump  the  waters  of  debt  out  of  his  bark  ;  but 
a  good  marriage  depended  on  his  advancement,  and 
his  advancement  required  that  he  should  be  a  deputy. 
Searching  about  him  for  the  means  of  breaking 
through  this  vicious  circle,  he  could  think  of  nothing 
better  than  some  immense  service  to  render  or  some 
delicate  intrigue  to  carry  through  for  persons  in  power. 
Alas  !  conspiracies  were  out  of  date  ;  the  Bourbons  were 
apparentl}'  on  good  terms  with  all  parties  ;  and,  unfortu- 
nately, for  the  last  few  years  the  government  had  been 
so  thorough!}'  held  up  to  the  light  of  day  by  the  silly 
discussions  of  the  Left,  whose  aim  seemed  to  be  to 


44  Bureaucracy. 

make  government  of  any  kind  impossible  in  France, 
that  no  good  strokes  of  business  could  be  made.  The 
last  were  tried  in  Spain,  and  what  an  outcrj^  they 
excited ! 

In  addition  to  all  this,  des  Lupeaulx  complicated  mat- 
ters by  believing  in  the  friendship  of  his  minister,  to 
whom  he  had  the  imprudence  to  express  the  wish  to  sit 
on  the  ministerial  benches.  The  minister  guessed  the 
real  meaning  of  the  desire,  which  simply  was  that  des 
Lupeaulx  wanted  to  strengthen  a  precarious  position, 
so  that  he  might  throw  off  all  dependence  on  his  chief. 
The  harrier  turned  against  the  huntsman  ;  the  minister 
gave  him  cuts  with  the  whip  and  caresses,  alternately, 
and  set  up  rivals  to  him.  But  des  Lupeaulx  behaved 
like  an  adroit  courtier  with  all  competitors ;  he  laid 
traps  into  which  they  fell,  and  then  he  did  prompt 
justice  upon  them.  The  more  he  felt  himself  in  dan- 
ger the  more  anxious  he  became  for  an  irremovable 
position ;  yet  he  was  compelled  to  plaj'  low ;  one  mo- 
ment's indiscretion,  and  he  might  lose  ever3'thing.  A 
pen-stroke  might  demolish  his  civilian  epaulets,  his 
place  at  court,  his  sinecure,  his  two  offices  and  their  ad- 
vantages ;  in  all,  six  salaries  retained  under  fire  of  the 
law  against  pluralists.  Sometimes  he  threatened  his 
minister  as  a  mistress  threatens  her  lover ;  telling  him 
he  was  about  to  marry  a  rich  widow.  At  such  times  the 
minister  petted  and  cajoled  des  Lupeaulx.     After  one 


Bureaucracy.  46 

of  these  reconciliations  he  received  the  formal  promise 
of  a  place  in  the  Academy  of  Belles-lettres  on  the  first 
vacancy.  "It  would  pay,"  he  said,  "the  keep  of  a 
horse."  His  position,  so  far  as  it  went,  was  a  good 
one,  and  Clement  Chardin  des  Lupeaulx  flourished  in  it 
like  a  tree  planted  in  good  soil.  He  could  satisfy  his 
vices,  his  caprices,  his  virtues  and  his  defects. 

The  following  were  the  toils  of  his  life.  He  was 
obliged  to  choose,  among  five  or  six  daily  invitations, 
the  house  where  he  could  be  sure  of  the  best  dinner. 
Every  morning  he  went  to  his  minister's  morning 
reception  to  amuse  that  oflScial  and  his  wife,  and  to 
pet  their  children.  Then  he  worked  an  hour  or  two ; 
that  is  to  say,  he  lay  back  in  a  comfortable  chair  and 
read  the  newspapers,  dictated  the  meaning  of  a  letter, 
received  visitors  when  the  minister  was  not  present, 
explained  the  work  in  a  general  way,  caught  or  shed  a 
few  drops  of  the  holy-water  of  the  court,  looked  over 
the  petitions  with  an  eyeglass,  or  wrote  his  name  on  the 
margin,  —  a  signature  which  meant  "  I  think  it  absurd  ; 
do  what  3^ou  like  about  it."  Every  body  knew  that  when 
des  Lupeaulx  was  interested  in  any  person  or  in  any 
thing  he  attended  to  the  matter  personall}-.  He  allowed 
the  head-clerks  to  converse  privately  about  affairs  of 
delicacy,  but  he  listened  to  their  gossip.  From  time 
to  time  he  went  to  the  Tuileries  to  get  his  cue.  And 
he  always  waited   for  the  minister's  return   from   the 


46  Bureaucracy, 

Chamber,  if  in  session,  to  hear  from  him  what  intrigue 
or  manoeuvre  he  was  to  set  about.  This  official  syba- 
rite dressed,  dined,  and  visited  a  dozen  or  fifteen  salons 
between  eight  at  night  and  three  in  the  morning.  At 
the  opera  he  talked  with  journalists,  for  he  stood  high 
in  their  favor ;  a  perpetual  exchange  of  little  services 
went  on  between  them  ;  he  poured  into  their  ears  his 
misleading  news  and  swallowed  theirs ;  he  prevented 
them  from  attacking  this  or  that  minister  on  such  or 
such  a  matter,  on  the  plea  that  it  would  cause  real 
pain  to  their  wives  or  their  mistresses. 

*'  Say  that  his  bill  is  worth  nothing,  and  prove  it  if 
you  can,  but  do  not  say  that  Mariette  danced  badly. 
The  devil !  have  n't  we  all  played  our  little  plays ; 
and  which  of  us  knows  what  will  become  of  him 
in  times  like  these?  You  may  be  minister  3'ourself 
to-morrow,  3^ou  who  are  spicing  the  cakes  of  the 
*  Constitutionel '  to-day." 

Sometimes,  in  return,  he  helped  editors,  or  got  rid 
of  obstacles  to  the  performances  of  some  play ;  gave 
gratuities  and  good  dinners  at  the  right  moment,  or 
promised  his  services  to  bring  some  affair  to  a  happy 
conclusion.  Moreover,  he  really  liked  literature  and 
the  arts ;  he  collected  autographs,  obtained  splendid 
albums  gratis^  and  possessed  sketches,  engravings, 
and  pictures.  He  did  a  great  deal  of  good  to  artists 
by  simply  not  injuring  them   and  by  furthering  their 


Bureaucracy,  47 

wishes  on  certain  occasions  when  their  self-love  wanted 
some  rather  costly  gratification.  Consequently,  he  was 
much  liked  in  the  world  of  actors  and  actresses,  jour- 
nalists and  artists.  For  one  thing,  they  had  the  same 
vices  and  the  same  indolence  as  himself.  Men  who 
could  all  say  such  witty  things  in  their  cups  or  in  com- 
pany with  a  danseuse,  how  could  they  help  being  friends  ? 
If  des  Lupeaulx  had  not  been  a  general-secretary  he 
would  certainly  have  been  a  journalist.  Thus,  in  that 
fifteen  years'  struggle  in  which  the  harlequin  sabre  of 
epigram  opened  a  breach  by  which  insurrection  entered 
the  citadel,  des  Lupeaulx  never  received  so  much  as 
a  scratch. 

As  the  young  frj^  of  clerks  looked  at  this  man  plajing 
bowls  in  the  gardens  of  the  ministry  with  the  minister's 
children,  they  cracked  their  brains  to  guess  the  secret 
of  his  influence  and  the  nature  of  his  services ;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  aristocrats  in  all  the  various 
ministries  looked  upon  him  as  a  dangerous  Mephis- 
topheles,  courted  him,  and  gave  him  back  with  usur}'- 
the  flatteries  he  bestowed  in  the  higher  sphere.  As 
diflScult  to  decipher  as  a  hieroglyphic  inscription  to  the 
clerks,  the  vocation  of  the  secretary  and  his  usefulness 
were  as  plain  as  the  rule  of  three  to  the  self-interested. 
This  lesser  Prince  de  Wagram  of  the  administration, 
to  whom  the  duty  of  gathering  opinions  and  ideas  and 
making  verbal  reports  thereon  was  entrusted,  knew  all 


48  Bureaucracy, 

the  secrets  of  parlianoentary  politics ;  dragged  in  the 
lukewarm,  fetched,  carried,  and  buried  propositions, 
said  the  yes  and  no  that  the  ministers  dared  not  say 
for  themselves.  Compelled  to  receive  the  first  fire  and 
the  first  blows  of  despair  or  wrath,  he  laughed  or 
bemoaned  himself  with  the  minister,  as  the  case  might 
be.  Mysterious  link  by  which  many  interests  were 
in  some  way  connected  with  the  Tuileries,  and  safe 
as  a  confessor,  he  sometimes  knew  everything  and 
sometimes  nothing;  and,  in  addition  to  all  these 
functions  came  that  of  saying  for  the  minister 
those  things  that  a  minister  cannot  say  of  himself. 
In  short,  with  this  political  Hephaestion  the  min- 
ister might  dare  to  be  himself;  to  take  off  his  wig 
and  his  false  teeth,  lay  aside  his  scruples,  put  on  his 
slippers,  unbutton  his  conscience,  and  give  way  to  his 
trickery.  However,  it  was  not  all  a  bed  of  roses  for 
des  Lupeaulx ;  he  flattered  and  advised  his  master, 
forced  to  flatter  in  order  to  advise,  to  advise  while  flat- 
tering, and  disguise  the  advice  under  the  flattery.  All 
politicians  who  follow  this  trade  have  bilious  faces ; 
and  their  constant  habit  of  giving  affirmative  nods 
acquiescing  in  what  is  said  to  them,  or  seeming  to  do 
so,  gives  a  certain  peculiar  turn  to  their  heads.  They 
agree  indifferentl}*  with  whatever  is  said  before  them. 
Their  talk  is  full  of  "  buts,"  "  notwithstandings,"  "  for 
myself  I  should,"  "  were  I  in  your  place"  (they  often 


Bureaucracy,  49 

say  "  in  your  place"),  —  phrases,  however,  which  pave 
the  way  to  opposition. 

In  person,  Clement  des  Lupeaulx  had  the  remains  of 
a  handsome  man ;  five  feet  six  inches  tall,  tolerably 
stout,  complexion  flushed  with  good  living,  powdered 
head,  delicate  spectacles,  and  a  worn-out  air ;  the  nat- 
ural skin  blond,  as  shown  by  the  hand,  puffs^  like  that 
of  an  old  woman,  rather  too  square,  and  with  short  nails 
—  the  hand  of  a  satrap.  His  foot  was  elegant.  After 
five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  des  Lupeaulx  was  always 
to  be  seen  in  open- worked  silk  stockings,  low  shoes, 
black  trousers,  cashmere  waistcoat,  cambric  handker- 
chief (without  perfume),  gold  chain,  blue  coat  of  the 
shade  called  *'  king's  blue,"  with  brass  buttons  and  a 
string  of  orders.  In  the  morning  he  wore  creaking 
boots  and  gray  trousers,  and  the  short  close  surtout 
coat  of  the  politician.  His  general  appearance  early  in 
the  day  was  that  of  a  sharp  lawyer  rather  than  that  of 
a  ministerial  officer.  Ej^es  glazed  by  the  constant  use 
of  spectacles  made  him  plainer  than  he  reall}^  was,  if  hy 
chance  he  took  those  appendages  off.  To  real  judges 
of  character,  as  well  as  to  upright  men  who  are  at  ease 
only  with  honest  natures,  des  Lupeaulx  was  intoler- 
able. To  them,  his  gracious  manners  onl}^  draped  his 
lies ;  his  amiable  protestations  and  hackneyed  courte- 
sies,  new  to   the   foolish   and    ignorant,    too    plainly 

showed  their  texture  to  an  observing  mind.     Such 

4 


60  Bureaucracy, 

minds  considered  him  a  rotten  plank,  on  which  no 
foot  should  trust  itself. 

No  sooner  had  the  beautiful  Madame  Rabourdin 
decided  to  interfere  in  her  husband's  administrative 
advancement  than  she  fathomed  Clement  des  Lupeaulx's 
true  character,  and  studied  him  thoughtfull}^  to  discover 
whether  in  this  thin  strip  of  deal  there  were  ligneous 
fibres  strong  enough  to  let  her  lightly  trip  across  it 
from  the  bureau  to  the  department,  from  a  salaiy  of 
eight  thousand  a  year  to  twelve  thousand.  The  clever 
woman  believed  she  could  play  her  own  game  with  this 
political  roue  ;  and  Monsieur  des  Lupeaulx  was  partly 
the  cause  of  the  unusual  expenditures  which  now  began 
and  were  continued  in  the  Rabourdin  household. 

The  rue  Duphot,  built  up  under  the  Empire,  is  re- 
markable for  several  houses  with  handsome  exteriors, 
the  apartments  of  which  are  skilfully  laid  out.  That  of 
the  Rabourdin s  was  particularly  well  arranged,  —  a 
domestic  advantage  which  has  much  to  do  with  the 
nobleness  of  private  lives.  A  pretty  and  rather  wide 
antechamber,  lighted  from  the  courtj-ard,  led  to  the 
grand  salon,  the  windows  of  which  looked  on  the  street. 
To  the  right  of  the  salon  were  Rabourdin's  study  and 
bedroom,  and  behind  them  the  dining-room,  which  was 
entered  from  tlie  antechamber ;  to  the  left  was  Ma- 
dame's  bedroom  and  dressing-room,  and  behind  them 
her  daughter's  little  bedroom.     On  reception  days  the 


Bureaucracy.  51 

door  of  Rabourdin's  study  and  that  of  his  wife's  bed- 
room were  thrown  open.  The  rooms  were  thus  spacious 
enough  to  contain  a  select  company,  without  the  absurd- 
ity which  attends  man}^  middle-class  entertainments, 
where  unusual  preparations  are  made  at  the  expense  of 
the  daily  comfort,  and  consequently  give  the  effect  of 
exceptional  effort.  The  salon  had  lately  been  rehung 
in  gold-colored  silk  with  Carmelite  touches.  Madame's 
bedroom  was  draped  in  a  fabric  of  true  blue  and  fur- 
nished in  a  rococo  manner.  Rabourdin's  stud}^  had  in- 
herited the  late  hangings  of  the  salon,  carefully  cleaned, 
and  was  adorned  by  the  fine  pictures  once  belonging  to 
Monsieur  Leprince.  The  daughter  of  the  late  auc- 
tioneer had  utilized  in  her  dining-room  certain  exquisite 
Turkish  rugs  which  her  father  had  bought  at  a  bargain  ; 
panelling  them  on  the  walls  in  ebon^^,  the  cost  of  which 
has  since  become  exorbitant.  Elegant  buffets  made  by 
BouUe,  also  purchased  by  the  auctioneer,  furnished  the 
sides  of  the  room,  at  the  end  of  which  sparkled  the 
brass  arabesques  inlaid  in  tortoise-shell  of  the  first  tall 
clock  that  reappeared  in  the  nineteenth  century  to  claim 
honor  for  the  masterpieces  of  the  seventeenth.  Flowers 
perfumed  these  rooms  so  full  of  good  taste  and  of  ex- 
quisite things,  where  each  detail  was  a  work  of  art  well 
placed  and  well  surrounded,  and  where  Madame  Ra- 
bourdin,  dressed  with  that  natural  simplicity  which 
artists  alone  attain,  gave  the  impression  of  a  woman 


52  Bureaucracy, 

accustomed  to  such  elegancies,  though  she  never  spoke 
of  them,  but  allowed  the  charms  of  her  mind  to  complete 
the  effect  produced  upon  her  guests  by  these  delightful 
surroundings.  Thanks  to  her  father,  Celestine  was 
able  to  make  society  talk  of  her  as  soon  as  the  rococo 
became  fashionable. 

Accustomed  as  des  Lupeaulx  was  to  false  as  well  as 
real  magnificence  in  all  tlieir  stages,  he  was,  neverthe- 
less, surprised  at  Madame  Rabourdin's  home.  The 
charm  it  exercised  over  this  Parisian  Asmodeus  can  be 
explained  by  a  comparison.  A  traveller  wearied  with 
the  rich  aspects  of  Italy,  Brazil,  or  India,  returns  to  his 
own  land  and  finds  on  his  way  a  delightful  little  lake, 
like  the  Lac  d'Orta  at  the  foot  of  Monte  Rosa,  with  an 
island  resting  on  the  calm  waters,  bewitchingly  simple ; 
a  scene  of  nature  and  yet  adorned ;  solitarj- ,  but  well 
surrounded  with  choice  plantations  and  foliage  and 
statues  of  fine  effect.  Beyond  lies  a  vista  of  shores  both 
wild  and  cultivated  ;  tumultuous  grandeur  towers  above, 
but  in  itself  all  the  proportions  are  human.  The  world 
that  the  traveller  has  lately  viewed  is  here  in  miniature, 
modest  and  pure ;  his  soul,  refreshed,  bids  him  remain 
where  a  charm  of  melody  and  poesy  surrounds  him 
with  harmon}^  and  awaken  ideas  within  his  mind.  Such 
a  scene  represents  both  life  and  a  monastery. 

A  few  days  earlier  the  beautiful  Madame  Firmiani, 
one  of  the  charming^  women  of  the   faubourg  Saint- 


Bureaucracy,  68 

Germain  who  visited  and  liked  Madame  Rabourdin, 
had  said  to  des  Lupeaulx  (invited  expressly  to  hear  the 
remark),  "  Why  do  3'ou  not  call  on  Madame  — ?  "  with 
a  motion  towards  Celestine  ;  "  she  gives  delightful  par- 
ties, and  her  dinners,  above  all,  are  —  better  than 
mine." 

Des  Lupeaulx  allowed  himself  to  be  drawn  into  an 
engagement  by  the  handsome  Madame  Rabourdin,  who, 
for  the  first  time,  turned  her  eyes  on  him  as  she  spoke. 
He  had,  accordingly,  gone  to  the  rue  Duphot,  and  that 
tells  the  tale.  Woman  has  but  one  trick,  cries  Figaro, 
but  that's  infallible.  After  dining  once  at  the  house  of 
this  unimportant  official,  des  Lupeaulx  made  up  his 
mind  to  dine  there  often.  Thanks  to  the  perfectly 
proper  and  becoming  advances  of  the  beautiful  woman, 
whom  her  rival,  Madame  Colleville,  called  the  Celimene 
of  the  rue  Duphot,  he  had  dined  there  every  Friday  for 
the  last  month,  and  returned  of  his  own  accord  for  a 
cup  of  tea  on  Wednesdays. 

Within  a  few  days  Madame  Rabourdin,  having 
watched  him  narrowly  and  knowingl}',  believed  she  had 
found  on  the  secretarial  plank  a  spot  where  she  might 
safely  set  her  foot.  She  was  no  longer  doubtful  of  suc- 
cess. Her  inward  joy  can  be  realized  only  in  the  fam- 
ilies of  government  officials  where  for  three  or  four 
years  prosperity  has  been  counted  on  through  some 
appointment,  long  expected  and  long   sought.     How 


54  Bureaucracy, 

many  troubles  to  be  allayed !  how  many  entreaties  and 
pledges  given  to  the  ministerial  divinities !  how  many 
visits  of  self-interest  paid!  At  last,  thanks  to  her 
boldness,  Madame  Rabourdin  heard  the  hour  strike 
when  she  was  to  have  twenty  thousand  francs  a  year 
instead  of  eight  thousand. 

"And  I  shall  have  managed  well,"  she  said  to  her- 
self. ' '  I  have  had  to  make  a  little  outlay ;  but  these 
are  times  when  hidden  merit  is  overlooked,  whereas  if 
a  man  keeps  himself  well  in  sight  before  the  world, 
cultivates  social  relations  and  extends  them,  he  suc- 
ceeds. After  all,  ministers  and  their  friends  interest 
themselves  only  in  the  people  they  see ;  but  Rabour- 
din knows  nothing  of  the  world  !  If  I  had  not  cajoled 
those  three  deputies  they  might  have  wanted  La  Billar- 
diere's  place  themselves  ;  whereas,  now  that  I  have  in- 
vited them  here,  they  will  be  ashamed  to  do  so  and  will 
become  our  supporters  instead  of  rivals.  I  have  rather 
played  the  coquette,  but  —  it  is  delightful  that  the  first 
nonsense  with  which  one  fools  a  man  sufficed." 

The  day  on  which  a  serious  and  unlooked-for  strug- 
gle about  this  appointment  began,  after  a  ministerial 
dinner  which  preceded  one  of  those  receptions  which 
ministers  regard  as  public,  des  Lupeaulx  was  standing 
beside  the  fireplace  near  the  minister's  wife.  While 
taking  his  coffee  he  once  more  included  Madame  Ra- 
bourdin among  the  seven  or  eight  really  superior  women 


Bureaucracy,  55 

in  Paris.  Several  times  already  he  had  staked  Ma- 
dame Rabourdin  very  much  as  Corporal  Trim  staked 
his  cap. 

"  Don't  say  that  too  often,  my  dear  friend,  or  you 
will  injure  her,"  said  the  minister's  wife,  half-laughing. 

Women  never  like  to  hear  praise  of  other  women ; 
they  keep  silence  themselves  to  lessen  its  effect. 

"Poor  La  Billardiere  is  dying,"  remarked  his  Excel- 
lency the  minister ;  "  that  place  falls  to  Rabourdin,  one 
of  our  most  able  men,  and  to  whom  our  predecessors 
did  not  behave  well,  though  one  of  them  actuall}'  owed 
his  position  in  the  prefecture  of  police  under  the  Empire 
to  a  certain  great  personage  who  was  interested  in 
Rabourdin.  But,  my  dear  friend,  you  are  still  3'oung 
enough  to  be  loved  b}-  a  pretty  woman  for  yourself — " 

''  If  La  Billardiere's  place  is  given  to  Rabourdin  I 
may  be  believed  when  I  praise  the  superiority  of  his 
wife,"  replied  des  Lupeaulx,  piqued  by  the  minister's 
sarcasm  ;  "  but  if  Madame  la  Comtesse  would  be  will- 
ing to  judge  for  herself — " 

"  You  want  me  to  invite  her  to  my  next  ball,  don't 
3'ou?  Your  clever  woman  will  meet  a  knot  of  other 
women  who  only  come  here  to  laugh  at  us,  and  when 
they  hear  '  Madame  Rabourdin  '  announced  —  " 

•'But  Madame  Firmiani  is  announced  at  the  Foreign 
Office  parties?" 

"Ah,  but  she  was  born  a  Cadignan  ! "  said  the  newly 


66  Bureaucracy, 

created  count,  with  a  savage  look  at  his  general- secre- 
tary, for  neither  he  nor  his  wife  were  noble. 

The  persons  present  thought  important  matters  were 
being  talked  over,  and  the  solicitors  for  favors  and 
appointments  kept  at  a  little  distance.  When  des 
Lupeaulx  left  the  room  the  countess  said  to  her  hus- 
band, "I  think  des  Lupeaulx  is  in  love." 

"  For  the  first  time  in  his  Ufe,  then,"  he  rephed,  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders,  as  much  as  to  inform  his  wife  that  des 
Lupeaulx  did  not  concern  himself  with  such  nonsense. 

Just  then  the  minister  saw  a  deputy  of  the  Right 
Centre  enter  the  room,  and  he  left  his  wife  abruptly  to 
cajole  an  undecided  vote.  But  the  deputy,  under  the 
blow  of  a  sudden  and  unexpected  disaster,  wanted  to 
make  sure  of  a  protector  and  he  had  come  to  announce 
privately  that  in  a  few  days  he  should  be  compelled  to 
resign.  Thus  forewarned,  the  minister  would  be  able 
to  open  his  batteries  for  the  new  election  before  those 
of  the  opposition. 

The  minister,  or  to  speak  correctly,  des  Lupeaulx 
had  invited  to  dinner  on  this  occasion  one  of  those  irre- 
movable oflEicials  who,  as  we  have  said,  are  to  be  found 
in  every  ministry ;  an  individual  much  embarrassed  by 
his  own  person,  who,  in  his  desire  to  maintain  a  digni- 
fied appearance,  was  standing  erect  and  rigid  on  his 
two  legs,  held  well  together  like  the  Greek  hermae. 
This  functionary  waited  near  the  fireplace  to  thank  the 


Bureaucracy,  67 

secretary,  whose  abrupt  and  unexpected  departure  from 
the  room  disconcerted  bim  at  the  moment  when  he  was 
about  to  turn  a  compliment.  This  official  was  the  cashier 
of  the  ministry,  the  only  clerk  who  did  not  tremble  when 
the  government  changed  hands. 

At  the  time  of  which  we  write,  the  Chamber  did  not 
meddle  shabbily  with  the  budget,  as  it  does  in  the  de- 
plorable days  in  which  we  now  live ;  it  did  not  con- 
temptibly reduce  ministerial  emoluments,  nor  save,  as 
they  say  in  the  kitchen,  the  candle-ends ;  on  the  con- 
trary, it  granted  to  each  minister  taking  charge  of  a 
public  department  an  indemnity,  called  an  "  outfit."  It 
costs,  alas,  as  much  to  enter  on  the  duties  of  a  minister 
as  to  retire  from  them ;  indeed,  the  entrance  involves 
expenses  of  all  kinds  which  it  is  quite  impossible  to  in- 
ventory. This  indemnity  amounted  to  the  pretty  little 
sum  of  twenty- five  thousand  francs.  When  the  appoint- 
ment of  a  new  minister  was  gazetted  in  the  "  Moniteur," 
and  the  greater  or  lesser  officials,  clustering  round  the 
stoves  or  before  the  fireplaces  and  shaking  in  their 
shoes,  asked  themselves:  ''What  will  he  do?  will  he 
increase  the  number  of  clerks?  will  he  dismiss  two  to 
make  room  for  three  ?  "  the  cashier  tranquilly  took  out 
twenty-five  clean  bank-bills  and  pinned  them  together 
with  a  satisfied  expression  on  his  beadle  face.  The  next 
day  he  mounted  the  private  staircase  and  had  himself 
ushered  into  the  minister's  presence  by  the  lackeys, 


58  Bureaucracy, 

who  considered  the  money  and  the  keeper  of  money, 
the  contents  and  the  container,  the  idea  and  the  form, 
as  one  and  the  same  power.  The  cashier  caught  the 
ministerial  pair  at  the  dawn  of  official  delight,  when 
the  newly  appointed  statesman  is  benign  and  affable. 
To  the  minister's  inquiry  as  to  what  brings  him  there,  he 
replies  with  the  bank-notes,  — informing  his  Excellency 
that  he  hastens  to  pa}'  him  the  customary  indemnity. 
Moreover,  he  explains  the  matter  to  the  minister's  wife, 
who  never  fails  to  draw  freely  upon  the  fund,  and  some- 
times takes  all,  for  the  "outfit"  is  looked  upon  as  a 
household  affair.  The  cashier  then  proceeds  to  turn 
a  compliment,  and  to  slip  in  a  few  politic  phrases : 
"  If  his  Excellency  would  deign  to  retain  him  ;  if,  satis- 
fied with  his  purely  mechanical  services,  he  would,"  etc. 
As  a  man  who  brings  twentj^-five  thousand  francs  is 
always  a  worthy  official,  the  cashier  is  sure  not  to  leave 
without  his  confirmation  to  the  post  from  which  he  has 
seen  a  succession  of  ministers  come  and  go  during  a 
period  of,  perhaps,  twenty-five  j^ears.  His  next  step  is 
to  place  himself  at  the  orders  of  Madame ;  he  brings  the 
monthly  thirteen  thousand  francs  whenever  wanted ;  he 
advances  or  delays  the  payment  as  requested,  and  thus 
manages  to  obtain,  as  they  said  in  the  monasteries, 
a  voice  in  the  chapter. 

Formerly  book-keeper  at  the  Treasury,   when    that 
establishment  kept  its  books  by  double  entry,  the  Sieur 


Bureaucracy.  59 

Saillard  was  compensated  for  the  loss  of  that  position 
by  his  appointment  as  cashier  of  a  ministr3^  He  was  a 
bulky,  fat  man,  very  strong  in  the  matter  of  book-keep- 
ing, and  ver}^  weak  in  everything  else ;  round  as  a  round 
O,  simple  as  how-do-3'ou-do,  —  a  man  who  came  to  his 
office  with  measured  steps,  like  those  of  an  elephant, 
and  returned  with  the  same  measured  tread  to  the  place 
Royale,  where  he  lived  on  the  ground-floor  of  an  old 
mansion  belonging  to  him.  He  usually  had  a  com- 
panion on  the  wa}^  in  the  person  of  Monsieur  Isidore 
Baudo3'er,  head  of  a  bureau  in  Monsieur  de  la  Billar- 
di^re's  division,  consequently  one  of  Rabourdin's  col- 
leagues. Baudoyer  was  married  to  Elisabeth  Saillard, 
the  cashier's  only  daughter,  and  had  hired,  very  natu- 
rally, the  apartments  above  those  of  his  father-in-law. 
No  one  at  the  ministry  had  the  slightest  doubt  that 
Saillard  was  a  blockhead,  but  neither  had  any  one  ever 
found  out  how  far  his  stupidity  could  go ;  it  was  too 
compact  to  be  examined ;  it  did  not  ring  hollow  ;  it 
absorbed  everything  and  gave  nothing  out.  Bixiou  (a 
clerk  of  whom  more  anon)  caricatured  the  cashier  by 
drawing  a  head  in  a  wig  at  the  top  of  an  eg^^  and 
two  little  legs  at  the  other  end,  with  this  inscription : 
"  Born  to  pay  out  and  take  in  without  blundering.  A 
little  less  luck,  and  he  might  have  been  lackc}'  to  the 
bank  of  France ;  a  little  more  ambition,  and  he  could 
have  been  honorably  discharged." 


60  Bureaucracy, 

At  the  moment  of  which  we  are  now  writing,  the 
minister  was  looking  at  his  cashier  very  much  as  we 
gaze  at  a  window  or  a  cornice,  without  supposing  that 
either  can  hear  us,  or  fathom  our  secret  thoughts. 

"  I  am  all  the  more  anxious  that  we  should  settle 
ever3-thing  with  the  prefect  in  the  quietest  way,  because 
des  Lupeaulx  has  designs  upon  the  place  for  himself," 
said  the  minister,  continuing  his  talk  with  the  deputy ; 
"his  paltry  little  estate  is  in  your  arrondissement ;  we 
don't  want  him  as  deput3\" 

''  He  has  neither  years  nor  rentals  enough  to  be  eligi- 
ble," said  the  deputy. 

"That  ma}' be;  but  you  know  how  it  was  decided 
for  Casimir  Perier  as  to  age;  and  as  to  worldly  pos- 
sessions, des  Lupeaulx  does  possess  something,  —  net 
much,  it  is  true ;  but  the  law  does  not  take  into  ac- 
count increase,  which  he  may  YQvy  well  obtain ;  com- 
missions have  wide  margins  for  the  deputies  of  the 
Centre,  yo\x  know,  and  we  cannot  openl}'  oppose  the 
good- will  that  is  shown  to  this  dear  friend." 

"But  where  could  he  get  the  money?" 

"  How  did  Manuel  manage  to  become  the  owner  of  a 
house  in  Paris?"  cried  the  minister. 

The  cashier  listened  and  heard,  but  reluctantly  and 
against  his  will.  These  rapid  remarks,  murmured  as 
they  were,  struck  his  ear  by  one  of  those  acoustic  re- 
bounds which  are  very  little  studied.    As  he  heard  these 


Bureaucracy.  61 

political  confidences,  however,  a  keen  alarm  took  pos- 
session of  his  soul.  He  was  one  of  those  simple-minded 
beings,  who  are  shocked  at  listening  to  anything  they 
are  not  intended  to  hear,  or  entering  where  they  are  not 
invited,  and  seeming  bold  when  they  are  really  timid, 
inquisitive  where  they  are  truly  discreet.  The  cashier 
accordingly  began  to  glide  along  the  carpet  and  edge 
himself  away,  so  that  the  minister  saw  him  at  a  distance 
when  he  first  took  notice  of  him.  Saillard  was  a  min- 
isterial henchman  absolutely  incapable  of  indiscretion ; 
even  if  the  minister  had  known  that  he  had  overheard 
a  secret  he  had  only  to  whisper  "  motus"  in  his  ear  to 
be  sure  it  was  perfectl}'  safe.  The  cashier,  however, 
took  advantage  of  an  influx  of  office-seekers,  to  slip  out 
and  get  into  his  hackne3'-coach  (hired  hy  the  hour  for 
these  costly  entertainments),  and  return  to  his  home  in 
the  place  Roy  ale. 


62  Bureaucracy, 


III. 


THE  TEEEDOS   NAVALIS,   OTHERWISE   CALLED 
SHIP-WOllM. 

While  old  Saillard  was  driving  across  Paris  his  son- 
in-law,  Isidore  Baudoj-er,  and  his  tlaugbter  Elisabeth, 
Baudoyer's  wife,  were  pla3'ing  a  virtuous  game  of  bos- 
ton with  their  confessor,  the  Abbe  Gaudron,  in  conipan}^ 
with  a  few  neighbors  and  a  certain  Martin  Falleix,  a 
brass-founder  in  the  faubourg  Saint-Antoine,  to  whom 
Saillard  had  loaned  the  necessary'  money  to  establish  a 
business.  This  Falleix,  a  respectable  Auvergnat  who 
had  come  to  seek  his  fortune  in  Paris  with  his  smelting- 
pot  on  his  back,  had  found  immediate  employment  with 
the  firm  of  Brezac,  collectors  of  metals  and  other  relics 
from  old  chateaux  in  the  provinces.  About  twcnt}-- 
seven  years  of  age,  and  spoiled,  like  others,  by  suc- 
cess, Martin  Falleix  had  had  the  luck  to  become  the 
active  agent  of  Monsieur  Saillard,  the  sleeping-partner 
in  the  working  out  of  a  discovery  made  by  Falleix  in 
smelting  (patent  of  invention  and  gold  medal  granted 
at  the  exposition  of  1825).  Madame  Baudoj'er,  whose 
onl}^  daughter  was  treading  —  to  use  an  expression  of 


Bureaucracy.  63 

old  Saillard's  —  on  the  tail  of  her  twelve  3'ears,  laid 
claim  to  Falleix,  a  thickset,  swarth}',  active  3'oung  fellow, 
of  shrewd  principles,  whose  education  she  was  superin- 
tending. The  said  education,  according  to  her  ideas, 
consisted  in  teaching  him  to  play  boston,  to  hold  his 
cards  properl}^  and  not  to  let  others  see  his  game  ;  to 
shave  himself  regularly  before  he  came  to  the  house, 
and  to  wash  his  hands  with  good  cleansing  soap ;  not 
to  swear,  to  speak  her  kind  of  French,  to  wear  boots 
instead  of  shoes,  cotton  shirts  instead  of  sacking,  and 
to  brush  up  his  hair  instead  of  plastering  it  flat.  Dur- 
ing the  preceding  week  Elisabeth  had  finally  succeeded 
in  persuading  Falleix  to  give  up  wearing  a  pair  of 
enormous  flat  earrings  resembling  hoops. 

"You  go  too  far,  Madame  Baudoyer,"  he  said,  see- 
ing her  satisfaction  at  the  final  sacrifice;  "  3'ou  order 
me  about  too  much.  You  make  me  clean  m}^  teeth, 
which  loosens  them  ;  presently  yon  will  want  me  to 
brush  my  nails  and  curl  my  hair,  which  won't  do  at 
all  in  our  business  ;  we  don't  like  dandies." 

Elisabeth  Baudoyer,  nee  Saillard,  is  one  of  those 
persons  who  escape  portraiture  through  their  utter 
commonness ;  yet  who  ought  to  be  sketched,  because 
they  are  specimens  of  that  second-rate  Parisian  bour- 
geoisie which  occupies  a  place  above  the  well-to-do 
artisan  and  below  the  upper  middle  classes, — a  tribe 
whose   virtues  are  well-nigh   vices,  whose  defects  are 


64  Bureaucracy, 

never  kindly,  but  whose  habits  and  manners,  dull  and 
insipid  though  they  be,  are  not  without  a  certain  origi- 
nality. Something  pinched  and  puny  about  Elisabeth 
Saillard  was  painful  to  the  eye.  Her  figure,  scarcely 
over  four  feet  in  height,  was  so  thin  that  the  waist 
measured  less  than  twenty  inches.  Her  small  features, 
which  clustered  close  about  the  nose,  gave  her  face  a 
vague  resemblance  to  a  weazel's  snout.  Though  she 
was  past  thirty  years  old  she  looked  scarcely  more 
than  sixteen.  Her  ej-es,  of  a  porcelain  blue,  over- 
weighted b}^  heavy  e^^elids  which  fell  nearl}^  straight 
from  the  arch  of  the  e3'ebrows,  had  little  light  in  them. 
Everything  about  her  appearance  was  commonplace: 
witness  her  flaxen  hair,  tending  to  whiteness ;  her  flat 
forehead,  from  which  the  light  did  not  reflect ;  and  her 
dull  complexion,  with  graj^,  almost  leaden,  tones.  The 
lower  part  of  the  face,  more  triangular  than  oval,  ended 
irregularly  the  otherwise  irregular  outline  of  her  face. 
Her  voice  had  a  rather  pretty  range  of  intonation,  from 
sharp  to  sweet.  Elisabeth  was  a  perfect  specimen  of 
the  second-rate  little  bourgeoise  who  lectures  her  hus- 
band behind  the  curtains ;  obtains  no  credit  for  her  vir- 
tues ;  is  ambitious  without  intelligent  object,  and  solelj- 
through  the  development  of  her  domestic  selfishness. 
Had  she  lived  in  the  country  she  would  have  bought  up 
adjacent  land ;  being,  as  she  was,  connected  with  the 
administration,  she  was  determined  to  push  her  way. 


Bureaucracy,  65 

If  we  relate  the  life  of  her  father  and  mother,  we  shall 
show  the  sort  of  woman  she  was  by  a  picture  of  her 
childhood  and  youth. 

Monsieur  Saillard  married  the  daughter  of  an  up- 
holsterer keeping  shop  under  the  arcades  of  the  Market. 
Limited  means  compelled  Monsieur  and  Madame  Sail- 
lard at  their  start  in  life  to  bear  constant  privation. 
After  thirty-three  years  of  married  life,  and  twenty- 
nine  3'ears  of  toil  in  a  government  office,  the  property 
of  "  the  Saillards  "  —  their  circle  of  acquaintance  called 
them  so  —  consisted  of  sixty  thousand  francs  entrusted 
to  Falleix,  the  house  in  the  place  Royale,  bought  for 
forty  thousand  in  1804,  and  thirt3'-six  thousand  francs 
given  in  dowry  to  their  daughter  Elisabeth.  Out  of 
this  capital  about  fifty  thousand  came  to  them  hy  the 
will  of  the  widow  Bidault,  Madame  Saillard's  mother. 
Saillard's  salary  from  the  government  had  always  been 
four  thousand  five  hundred  francs  a  year,  and  no  more  ; 
his  situation  was  a  blind  alle}'  that  led  nowhere,  and 
had  tempted  no  one  to  supersede  him.  These  ninetj^ 
thousand  francs,  put  together  sou  by  sou,  were  the 
fruit  therefore  of  a  sordid  economy  unintelligently  em- 
ployed. In  fact,  the  Saillards  did  not  know  how  bet- 
ter to  manage  their  savings  than  to  carry  them,  five 
thousand  francs  at  a  time,  to  their  notar}'.  Monsieur 
Sorbier,  Cardot's  predecessor,  and  let  him  invest  them 
at  five  per  cent  in  first  mortgages,  with  the  wife's  rights 


66  Bureaucracy. 

reserved  in  case  the  borrower  was  married !  In  1804 
Madame  Saillard  obtained  a  government  office  for  the 
sale  of  stamped  papers,  a  circumstance  which  brought  a 
servant  into  the  household  for  the  first  time.  At  the 
time  of  which  we  write,  the  house,  which  was  worth  a 
hundred  thousand  francs,  brought  in  a  rental  of  eight 
thousand.  Falleix  paid  seven  per  cent  for  the  sixt}' 
thousand  invested  in  the  foundrj^,  besides  an  equal 
division  of  profits.  The  Saillards  were  therefore  en- 
joying an  income  of  not  less  than  seventeen  thousand 
francs  a  j'ear.  The  whole  ambition  of  the  good  man 
now  centred  on  obtaining  the  cross  of  the  Legion  and 
his  retiring  pension. 

Elisabeth,  the  only  child,  had  toiled  steadily  from 
infancy  in  a  home  where  the  customs  of  life  were 
rigid  and  the  ideas  simple.  A  new  hat  for  Saillard 
was  a  matter  of  deliberation ;  the  time  a  coat  could 
last  was  estimated  and  discussed ;  umbrellas  were 
carefully  hung  up  by  means  of  a  brass  buckle.  Since 
1804  no  repairs  of  any  kind  had  been  done  to  the 
house.  The  Saillards  kept  the  ground-floor  in  pre- 
cisely the  state  in  which  their  predecessor  left  it.  The 
gilding  of  the  pier-glasses  was  rubbed  off*;  the  paint 
on  the  cornices  was  hardl}'  visible  through  the  layers 
of  dust  that  time  had  collected.  The  fine  large  rooms 
still  retained  certain  sculptured  marble  mantel-pieces 
and  ceilings,  worth}'  of  Versailles,  together  with  the  old 


Bureaucracy,  67 

furniture  of  the  widow  Bidault.  The  latter  consisted 
of  a  curious  mixture  of  walnut  armchairs,  disjointed, 
and  covered  with  tapestry- ;  rosewood  bureaus ;  round 
tables  on  single  pedestals,  with  brass  railings  and 
cracked  marble  tops ;  one  superb  BouUe  secretary, 
the  value  of  which  style  had  not  yet  been  recognized ; 
in  short,  a  chaos  of  bargains  picked  up  by  the  worthy 
widow,  —  pictures  bought  for  the  sake  of  the  frames, 
china  services  of  a  composite  order ;  to  wit,  a  mag- 
nificent Japanese  dessert  set,  and  all  the  rest  porcelains 
of  various  makes,  unmatched  silver  plate,  old  glass,  fine 
damask,  and  a  four-post  bedstead,  hung  with  curtains 
and  garnished  with  plumes. 

Amid  these  curious  relics,  Madame  Saillard  always 
sat  on  a  sofa  of  modern  mahogan}-,  near  a  fireplace  full 
of  ashes  and  without  fire,  on  the  mantel-shelf  of  which 
stood  a  clock,  some  antique  bronzes,  candelabra  with 
paper  flowers  but  no  candles,  for  the  careful  housewife 
lighted  the  room  with  a  tall  tallow  candle  always  gutter- 
ing down  into  the  flat  brass  candlestick  which  held  it. 
Madame  Saillard's  face,  despite  its  wrinkles,  was  ex- 
pressive of  obstinacy  and  severity,  narrowness  of  ideas, 
an  uprightness  that  might  be  called  quadrangular,  a 
religion  without  piety,  straightforward,  candid  avarice, 
and  the  peace  of  a  quiet  conscience.  You  may  see  in 
certain  Flemish  pictures  the  wives  of  burgomasters  cut 
out  by  nature   on  this  same  pattern  and  wonderfully 


68  Bureaucracy, 

reproduced  on  canvas ;  but  these  dames  wear  fine  robes 
of  velvet  and  precious  stuffs,  whereas  Madame  Saillard 
possessed  no  robes,  only  that  venerable  garment  called 
in  Touraine  and  Picard}"  coUes,  elsewhere  petticoats,  or 
skirts  pleated  behind  and  on  each  side,  with  other  skirts 
hanging  over  them.  Her  bust  was  inclosed  in  what  was 
called  a  casaquin^  another  obsolete  name  for  a  short 
gown  or  jacket.  She  continued  to  wear  a  cap  with 
starched  wings,  and  shoes  with  high  heels.  Though 
she  was  now  fiftj^-seven  3'ears  old,  and  her  lifetime  of 
vigorous  household  work  ought  now  to  be  rewarded 
with  well-earned  repose,  she  was  incessantl}^  employed 
in  knitting  her  husband's  stockings  and  her  own,  and 
those  of  an  uncle,  just  as  her  countrywomen  knit  them, 
moving  about  the  room,  talking,  pacing  up  and  down 
the  garden,  or  looking  round  the  kitchen  to  watch  what 
was  going  on. 

The  Saillards'  avarice,  which  was  reall}'  imposed  on 
them  in  the  first  instance  by  dire  necessity,  was  now  a 
second  nature.  When  the  cashier  got  back  from  the 
office,  he  laid  aside  his  coat,  and  went  to  work  in  the 
large  garden,  shut  off*  from  the  courtyard  by  an  iron  rail- 
ing, and  which  the  famih^  reserved  to  itself  For  years 
Elisabeth,  the  daughter,  went  to  market  every  morning 
with  her  mother,  and  the  two  did  all  the  work  of  the 
house.  The  mother  cooked  well,  especially  a  duck  with 
turnips  ;  but,  according  to  Saillard,  no  one  could  equal 


Bureaucracy,  69 

Elisabeth  in  hashing  the  remains  of  a  leg  of  mutton 
with  onions.  ' '  You  might  eat  your  boots  with  those 
onions  and  not  know  it,"  he  remarked.  As  soon  as 
Elisabeth  knew  how  to  hold  a  needle,  her  mother  made 
her  mend  the  household  linen  and  her  father's  coats. 
Always  at  work,  like  a  servant,  she  never  went  out 
alone.  Though  living  close  by  the  boulevard  du  Tem- 
ple, where  Franconi,  La  Gaite,  and  TAmbigu-Comique 
were  within  a  stone's  throw,  and,  further  on,  the  Porte- 
Saint-Martin,  EUsabeth  had  never  seen  a  comedy. 
When  she  asked  to  '' see  what  it  was  like"  (with  the 
Abbe  Gaudron's  permission,  be  it  understood) ,  Monsieur 
Baudoyer  took  her  —  for  the  glory  of  the  thing,  and  to 
show  her  the  finest  that  was  to  be  seen  —  to  the  Opera, 
where  they  were  playing  "  The  Chinese  Laborer."  Elis- 
abeth thought  ''the  comedy"  as  wearisome  as  the 
plague  of  flies,  and  never  wished  to  see  another.  On 
Sundays,  after  walking  four  times  to  and  fro  be- 
tween the  place  Roj'ale  and  Saint-Paul's  church  (for 
her  mother  made  her  practise  the  precepts  and  the 
duties  of  religion),  her  parents  took  her  to  the  pave- 
ment in  front  of  the  Cafe  Turc,  where  they  sat  on  chairs 
placed  between  a  railing  and  the  wall.  The  Saillards 
always  made  haste  to  reach  the  place  early  so  as  to 
choose  the  best  seats,  and  found  much  entertainment  in 
watching  the  passers-by.  In  those  days  the  Cafe  Turc 
was  the  rendezvous  of  the  fashionable  society  of  the 


70  Bureaucracy. 

Marais,  the  faubourg  Saint-Antoine,  and  the  circum- 
jacent regions. 

Elisabeth  never  wore  anything  but  cotton  gowns  in 
summer  and  merino  in  winter,  which  she  made  herself. 
Her  mother  gave  her  twent}^  francs  a  month  for  her  ex- 
penses, but  her  father,  who  was  very  fond  of  her,  miti- 
gated this  rigorous  treatment  with  a  few  presents.  She 
never  read  what  the  Abbe  Gaudron,  vicar  of  Saint-Paul's 
and  the  family  director,  called  profane  books.  This  dis- 
cipline had  borne  fruit.  Forced  to  employ  her  feel- 
ings on  some  passion  or  other,  Elizabeth  became  eager 
after  gain.  Though  she  was  not  lacking  in  sense  or 
perspicacity,  religious  theories,  and  her  complete  igno- 
rance of  higher  emotions  had  encircled  all  her  faculties 
with  an  iron  band ;  they  were  exercised  solelj^  on  the 
commonest  things  of  life ;  spent  in  few  directions  they 
were  able  to  concentrate  themselves  on  a  matter  in 
hand.  Repressed  by  religious  devotion,  her  natural 
intelligence  exercised  itself  within  the  limits  marked 
out  by  cases  of  conscience,  which  form  a  mine  of  sub- 
tleties among  which  self-interest  selects  its  subterfuges. 
Like  those  saintly  personages  in  whom  religion  does 
not  stifle  ambition,  Elisabeth  was  capable  of  requiring 
others  to  do  a  blamable  action  that  she  might  reap  the 
fruits ;  and  she  would  have  been,  like  them  again,  im- 
placable as  to  her  dues  and  dissembling  in  her  actions. 
Once  oflended,  she  watched  her  adversaries  with  the 


Bureaucracy.  71 

perfidious  patience  of  a  cat,  and  was  capable  of  bring- 
ing about  some  cold  and  complete  vengeance,  and  then 
la3ing  it  to  the  account  of  God.  Until  her  marriage  the 
Saillards  lived  without  other  society  than  that  of  the 
Abbe  Gaudron,  a  priest  from  Auvergne  appointed  vicar 
of  Saint-Paul's  after  the  restoration  of  Catholic  worship. 
Besides  this  ecclesiastic,  who  was  a  friend  of  the  late 
Madame  Bidault,  a  paternal  uncle  of  Madame  Saillard, 
an  old  paper-dealer  retired  from  business  ever  since  the 
3'ear  II.  of  the  Republic,  and  now  sixty-nine  years  old, 
came  to  see  them  on  Sundays  onty,  because  on  that 
day  no  government  business  went  on. 

This  little  old  man,  with  a  livid  face  blazoned  by 
the  red  nose  of  a  tippler  and  lighted  by  two  gleam- 
ing vulture  eyes,  allowed  his  gray  hair  to  hang  loose 
under  a  three-cornered  hat,  wore  breeches  with  straps 
that  extended  beyond  the  buckles,  cotton  stockings  of 
mottled  thread  knitted  by  his  niece,  whom  he  always 
called  "the  little  Saillard,"  stout  shoes  with  silver 
buckles,  and  a  surtout  coat  of  mixed  colors.  He 
looked  very  much  like  those  verger-beadle-bell-ring- 
ing-grave-digging-parish-clerks  who  are  taken  to  be 
caricatures  until  we  see  them  performing  their  various 
functions.  On  the  present  occasion  he  had  come  on 
foot  to  dine  with  the  Saillards,  intending  to  return  in 
the  same  way  to  the  rue  Greneta,  where  he  lived  on  the 
third  floor  of  an  old  house.     His  business  was  that  of 


72  Bureaucracy. 

discounting  commercial  paper  in  the  qnartier  Saint- 
Martin,  where  he  was  known  by  the  nickname  of  "Gi- 
gonnet,"  from  the  nervous,  convulsive  movement  with 
which  he  lifted  his  legs  in  walking,  like  a  cat.  Mon- 
sieur Bidault  began  this  business  in  the  year  II.  in  part- 
nership with  a  Dutchman  named  Werbrust,  a  friend  of 
Gobseck. 

Some  time  later  Saillard  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Monsieur  and  Madame  Transon,  wholesale  dealers  in 
potter^',  with  an  establishment  in  the  rue  de  Lesdi- 
guieres,  who  took  an  interest  in  Elisabeth  and  intro- 
duced 3'oung  Isidore  Baudo3er  to  the  famil}^  with  the 
intention  of  marrying  her.  Gigonnet  approved  of  the 
match,  for  he  had  long  employed  a  certain  Mitral,  uncle 
of  the  young  man,  as  clerk.  Monsieur  and  Madame 
Baudoyer,  father  and  mother  of  Isidore,  highly  respect- 
able leather-dressers  in  the  rue  Censier,  had  slowly 
made  a  moderate  fortune  out  of  a  small  trade.  After 
marrying  their  only  son,  on  whom  they  settled  fifty 
thousand  francs,  they  determined  to  live  in  the  coun- 
try, and  had  lately  removed  to  the  neighborhood  of  lle- 
d'Adam,  where  after  a  time  they  were  joined  by  Mitral. 
They  frequentl}^  came  to  Paris,  however,  where  the}' 
kept  a  corner  in  the  house  in  the  rue  Censier  which  they 
gave  to  Isidore  on  his  marriage.  The  elder  Baudoyers 
had  an  income  of  about  three  thousand  francs  left  to 
live  upon  after  establishing  their  son. 


Bureaucracy.  73 

Mitral  was  a  being  with  a  sinister  wig,  a  face  the 
color  of  Seine  water,  lighted  by  a  pair  of  Spanish-to- 
bacco-colored e3'es,  cold  as  a  well-rope,  always  smell- 
ing a  rat,  and  close-mouthed  about  his  property.  He 
probably  made  his  fortune  in  his  own  hole  and  corner, 
just  as  Werbrust  and  Gigonnet  made  theirs  in  the 
quartier  Saint-Martin. 

Though  the  Saillards'  circle  of  acquaintance  increased, 
neither  their  ideas  nor  their  manners  and  customs 
changed.  The  saint's-days  of  father,  mother,  daughter, 
son-in-law,  and  grandchild  were  carefully  observed,  also 
the  anniversaries  of  birth  and  marriage,  Easter,  Christ- 
mas, New  Year's  da}^  and  Epiphan}- .  These  festivals 
were  preceded  by  great  domestic  sweepings  and  a  uni- 
versal clearing  up  of  the  house,  which  added  an  element 
of  usefulness  to  the  ceremonies.  When  the  festival  day 
came,  the  presents  were  offered  with  much  pomp  and  an 
accompaniment  of  flowers,  —  silk  stockings  or  a  fur  cap 
for  old  Saillard  ;  gold  earrings  and  articles  of  plate  for 
Elisabeth  or  her  husband,  for  whom,  little  by  little,  the 
parents  were  accumulating  a  whole  silver  service ;  silk 
petticoats  for  Madame  Saillard,  who  laid  the  stuff  by 
and  never  made  it  up.  The  recipient  of  these  gifts  was 
placed  in  an  armchair  and  asked  by  those  present  for 
a  certain  length  of  time,  "Guess  what  we  have  for 
you ! "  Then  came  a  splendid  dinner,  lasting  at  least 
five  hours,  to  which  were  invited  the  Abbe  Gaudron, 


74  Bureaucracy. 

Falleix,  Rabourdin,  Monsieur  Godard,  under-head-clerk 
to  Monsieur  Baudo3'er,  Monsieur  Bataille,  captain  of 
the  company  of  the  National  Guard  to  which  Saillard 
and  his  son-in-law  belonged.  Monsieur  Cardot,  who 
was  invariably  asked,  did  as  Rabourdin  did,  namelj', 
accepted  one  invitation  out  of  six.  The  compan}^  sang 
at  dessert,  shook  hands  and  embraced  with  enthusiasm, 
wishing  each  other  all  manner  of  happiness  ;  the  presents 
were  exhibited  and  the  opinion  of  the  guests  asked  about 
them.  The  day  Saillard  received  his  fur  cap  he  wore  it 
during  the  dessert,  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  present.  At 
night,  mere  ordinary  acquaintances  were  bidden,  and 
dancing  went  on  till  ver}'  late,  formerly  to  the  music 
of  one  violin,  but  for  the  last  six  years  Monsieur  Go- 
dard, who  was  a  great  flute  player,  contributed  the  pierc- 
ing tones  of  a  flageolet  to  the  festivity.  The  cook, 
Madame  Baudo3'er's  nurse,  and  old  Catherine,  Madame 
Saillard's  woman-servant,  together  with  the  porter  or  his 
wife,  stood  looking  on  at  the  door  of  the  salon.  The 
servants,  alwa3^s  received  three  francs  on  these  occa- 
sions  to  buy  themselves  wine  or  cofiee. 

This  little  circle  looked  upon  Saillard  and  Baudoyer 
as  transcendent  beings  ;  they  were  government  oflScers ; 
they  had  risen  b}"  their  own  merits ;  the}'^  worked,  it 
was  said,  with  the  minister  himself;  thej^  owed  their 
fortune  to  their  talents ;  the\'  were  politicians.  Bau- 
do^'er  was  considered  the  more  able  of  the  two ;    his 


Bureaucracy.  75 

position  as  head  of  a  bureau  presupposed  labor  that 
was  more  intricate  and  arduous  than  that  of  a  cashier. 
Moreover,  Isidore,  though  the  son  of  a  leather-dresser, 
had  had  the  genius  to  study  and  to  cast  aside  his 
father's  business  and  find  a  career  in  politics,  which  had 
led  him  to  a  post  of  eminence.  In  short,  silent  and 
uncommunicative  as  he  was,  he  was  looked  upon  as  a 
deep  thinker,  and  perhaps,  said  the  admiring  circle,  he 
would  some  day  become  deputy  of  the  eighth  arrondisse- 
ment.  As  Gigonnet  listened  to  such  remarks  as  these, 
he  pressed  his  already  pinched  lips  closer  together,  and 
threw  a  glance  at  his  great-niece,  Elisabeth. 

In  person,  Isidore  was  a  tall,  stout  man  of  thirty- 
seven,  who  perspired  freel}",  and  whose  head  looked  as 
if  he  had  water  on  the  brain.  This  enormous  head, 
covered  with  chestnut  hair  cropped  close,  was  joined  to 
the  neck  hy  rolls  of  flesh  which  overhung  the  collar  of 
his  coat.  He  had  the  arms  of  Hercules,  hands  worthy 
of  Domitian,  a  stomach  which  sobriet}^  held  within  the 
limits  of  the  majestic,  to  use  a  saying  of  Brillat-Sava- 
rin.  His  face  was  a  good  deal  like  that  of  the  Emperor 
Alexander.  The  Tartar  type  was  in  the  little  ej-es  and 
the  flattened  nose  slightly  turned  up,  in  the  frigid  lips 
and  the  short  chin.  The  forehead  was  low  and  narrow. 
Though  his  temperament  was  lymphatic,  the  devout 
Isidore  was  under  the  influence  of  a  conjugal  passion 
which  time  did  not  lessen. 


76  Bureaucracy. 

In  spite,  however,  of  his  resemblance  to  the  hand- 
some Russian  Emperor  and  the  terrible  Domitian, 
Isidore  Baudo3^er  was  nothing  more  than  a  political 
ofBce-holder,  of  little  abilit\'  as  head  of  his  department, 
a  cut-and-dried  routine  man,  who  concealed  the  fact 
that  he  was  a  flabby  cipher  by  so  ponderous  a  person- 
ality that  no  scalpel  could  cut  deep  enough  to  let  the 
operator  see  into  him.  His  severe  studies,  in  which  he 
had  shown  the  patience  and  sagacity  of  an  ox,  and  his 
square  head,  deceived  his  parents,  who  firml3^  believed 
him  an  extraordinary-  man.  Pedantic  and  hj'percritical, 
meddlesome  and  fault-finding,  he  was  a  terror  to  the 
clerks  under  him,  whom  he  worried  in  their  work,  en- 
forcing the  rules  rigorously,  and  arriving  himself  with 
such  ten-ible  punctuality  that  not  one  of  them  dared  to 
be  a  moment  late.  Baudoyer  wore  a  blue  coat  with  gilt 
buttons,  a  chamois  waistcoat,  gray  trousers  and  cravats 
of  various  colors.  His  feet  were  large  and  ill-shod. 
From  the  chain  of  his  watch  depended  an  enormous 
bunch  of  old  trinkets,  among  which  in  1824  he  still  wore 
"American  beads,"  which  were  much  the  fashion  in  the 
year  VII. 

In  the  bosom  of  this  family,  bound  together  by  the 
force  of  religious  ties,  by  the  inflexibility  of  its  customs, 
by  one  solitar}^  emotion,  that  of  avarice,  a  passion  which 
was  now  as  it  were  its  compass,  Elisabeth  was  forced  to 
commune  with  herself,  instead  of  imparting  her  ideas  to 


Bureaucracy.  77 

those  around  her,  for  she  felt  herself  without  equals  in 
mind  who  could  comprehend  her.  Though  facts  com- 
pelled her  to  judge  her  husband,  her  religious  duty  led 
her  to  keep  up  as  best  she  could  a  favorable  opinion  of 
him ;  she  showed  him  marked  respect ;  honored  him 
as  the  father  of  her  child,  her  husband,  the  temporal 
power,  as  the  vicar  of  Saint-Paul's  told  her.  She  would 
have  thought  it  a  mortal  sin  to  make  a  single  gesture, 
or  give  a  single  glance,  or  say  a  single  word  which 
would  reveal  to  others  her  real  opinion  of  the  imbecile 
Baudoyer.  She  even  professed  to  obey  passively  all  his 
wishes.  But  her  ears  were  receptive  of  many  things  ; 
she  thought  them  over,  weighed  and  compared  them  in 
the  solitude  of  her  own  mind,  and  judged  so  soberly  of 
men  and  events  that  at  the  time  when  our  history  be- 
gins she  was  the  hidden  oracle  of  the  two  functionaries, 
her  husband  and  father,  who  had,  unconsciously,  come 
to  do  nothing  whatever  without  consulting  her.  Old 
Saillard  would  say,  innocently,  "Is  n't  she  clever,  that 
Elisabeth  of  mine?"  But  Baudoyer,  too  great  a  fool 
not  to  be  puffed  up  by  the  false  reputation  the  qu artier 
Saint- Antoine  bestowed  upon  him,  denied  his  wife's 
cleverness  all  the  while  that  he  was  making  use  of  it. 

Elisabeth  had  long  felt  sure  that  her  uncle  Bidault, 
otherwise  called  Gigonnet,  was  rich  and  handled  vast 
sums  of  money.  Enlightened  by  self-interest,  she 
had   come  to  understand   Monsieur  des  Lupeaulx  far 


78  Bureaucracy, 

better  than  the  minister  understood  him.  Finding 
herself  married  to  a  fool,  she  never  allowed  herself 
to  think  that  life  might  have  gone  better  with  her, 
she  only  imagined  the  possibility  of  better  things  with- 
out expecting  or  wishing  to  attain  them.  All  her  best 
affections  found  their  vocation  in  her  love  for  her  daugh- 
ter, to  whom  she  spared  the  pains  and  privations  she 
had  borne  in  her  own  childhood ;  she  believed  that  in 
this  affection  she  had  her  full  share  in  the  world  of 
feeling.  Solely  for  her  daughter's  sake  she  had  per- 
suaded her  father  to  take  the  important  step  of  go- 
ing into  partnership  with  Falleix.  Falleix  had  been 
brought  to  the  Saillards'  house  by  old  Bidault,  who 
lent  him  money  on  his  merchandise.  Falleix  thought 
his  old  countryman  extortionate,  and  complained  to  the 
Saillards  that  Gigonnet  demanded  eighteen  per  cent 
from  an  Auvergnat.  Madame  Saillard  ventured  to 
remonstrate  with  her  uncle. 

'*  It  is  just  because  he  is  an  Auvergnat  that  I  take 
only  eighteen  per  cent,"  said  Gigonnet,  when  she  spoke 
to  him. 

Falleix,  who  had  made  a  discover}^  at  the  age  of 
twenty-eight,  and  communicated  it  to  Saillard,  seemed 
to  carry  his  heart  in  his  hand  (an  expression  of  old 
Saillard's),  and  also  seemed  likely  to  make  a  great 
fortune.  Elisabeth  determined  to  husband  him  for 
her  daughter   and   train   him   herself,   having,  as   she 


Bureaucracy,  79 

calculated,  seven  years  to  do  it  in.  Martin  Falleix 
felt  and  showed  the  deepest  respect  for  Madame 
Baudoyer,  whose  superior  qualities  he  was  able  to 
recognize.  If  he  were  fated  to  make  millions  he 
would  always  belong  to  her  family,  where  he  had 
found  a  home.  The  little  Baudoyer  girl  was  already 
trained  to  bring  him  his  tea  and  to  take  his  hat. 

On  the  evening  of  which  we  write,  Monsieur  Sail- 
lard,  returning  from  the  ministry,  found  a  game  of 
boston  in  full  blast;  Elisabeth  was  advising  Falleix 
how  to  play ;  Madame  Saillard  was  knitting  in  the 
chimney-corner  and  overlooking  the  cards  of  the  vicar ; 
Monsieur  Baudoyer,  motionless  as  a  mile-stone,  was 
employing  his  mental  capacity  in  calculating  how  the 
cards  were  placed,  and  sat  opposite  to  Mitral,  who 
had  come  up  from  lle-d'Adam  for  the  Christmas  holi- 
days. No  one  moved  as  the  cashier  entered,  and  for 
some  minutes  he  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  his 
fat  face  contracted  with  unaccustomed  thought. 

*'He  is  always  so  when  he  dines  at  the  ministry," 
remarked  Madame  Saillard  ;  "  happily,  it  is  only  twice 
a  year,  or  he  'd  die  of  it.  Saillard  was  never  made 
to  be  in  the  government —  Well,  now,  I  do  hope, 
Saillard,'*  she  continued  in  a  loud  tone,  "  that  you  are 
not  going  to  keep  on  those  silk  breeches  and  that 
handsome  coat.  Go  and  take  them  off;  don't  wear 
them  at  home,  my  man." 


80  Bureaucracy. 

"  Your  father  has  something  on  his  mind,"  said 
Baudo3^er  to  his  wife,  when  the  cashier  was  in  his 
bedroom,  undressing  without  an}'  fire. 

"  Perhaps  Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere  is  dead,"  said 
Elisabeth,  simply;  "  and  as  he  is  anxious  3'ou  should 
have  the  place,  it  worries  him." 

"  Can  I  be  useful  in  any  way?"  said  the  vicar  of 
Saint-Paul's  ;  "  if  so,  pray  use  m}^  services.  I  have  the 
honor  to  be  known  to  Madame  la  Dauphine.  These 
are  days  when  public  offices  should  be  given  only  to 
faithful  men,  whose  religious  principles  are  not  to  be 
shaken." 

"  Dear  me!  "  said  Falleix,  "do  men  of  merit  need 
protectors  and  influence  to  get  places  in  the  govern- 
ment service?  I  am  glad  I  am  an  iron-master;  my 
customers  know  where  to  find  a  good  article  — " 

"Monsieur,"  interrupted  Baudoyer,  "the  govern- 
ment is  the  government;  never  attack  it  in  this 
house." 

"You  speak  like  the  '  Constitutionnel,*  said  the 
vicar. 

"The  '  Constitutionnel  *  never  says  anj'thing  differ- 
ent from  that,"  replied  Baudoyer,  who  never  read  it. 

The  cashier  believed  his  son-in-law  to  be  as  su- 
perior in  talent  to  Rabourdin  as  God  was  greater 
than  Saint-Crepin,  to  use  his  own  expression ;  but 
the  good  man  coveted  this  appointment  in  a  straight- 


Bureaucracy,  81 

forward,  honest  way.  Influenced  b}^  the  feeling  which '^ 
leads  all  oflScials  to  seek  promotion,  —  a  violent,  unre- 
flecting, almost  brutal  passion,  —  he  desired  success, 
just  as  he  desired  the  cross  of  the  Legion  of  honor, 
without  doing  an3'thing  against  his  conscience  to  obtain 
it,  and  solely,  as  he  believed,  on  the  strength  of  his 
son-in-law's  merits.  To  his  thinking,  a  man  who  had 
patientty  spent  twentj^-five  years  in  a  government  ofllce 
behind  an  iron  railing  had  sacrificed  himself  to  his 
country  and  deserved  the  cross.  But  all  that  he  dreamed 
of  doing  to  promote  his  son-in-law's  appointment  in 
La  Billardiere's  place  was  to  say  a  word  to  his  Excel- 
lency's wife  when  he  took  her  the  month's  salary. 

"Well,  Saillard,  you  look  as  if  you  had  lost  all 
your  friends !  Do  speak ;  do,  pray,  tell  us  some- 
thing," cried  his  wife  when  he  came  back  into  the 
room. 

Saillard,  after  making  a  little  sign  to  his  daughter, 
turned  on  his  heel  to  keep  himself  from  talking  poli- 
tics before  strangers.  When  Monsieur  Mitral  and 
the  vicar  had  departed,  Saillard  rolled  back  the  card- 
table  and  sat  down  in  an  armchair  in  the  attitude  he 
alwaj's  assumed  when  about  to  tell  some  office-gossip, 
—  a  series  of  movements  which  answered  the  purpose 
of  the  three  knocks  given  at  the  Theatre-Fran9ais. 
After  binding  his  wife,  daughter,  and  son-in-law  to 
tiie  deepest  secrecy,  —  for,  however  petty  the  gossip, 

6 


82  Bureaucracy, 

their  places,  as  he  thought,  depended  on  their  discre- 
tion,—  he  related  the  incomprehensible  enigma  of  the 
resignation  of  a  deputy,  the  very  legitimate  desire  of 
the  general-secretary  to  get  elected  to  the  place,  and 
the  secret  opposition  of  the  minister  to  this  wish  of 
a  man  who  was  one  of  his  firmest  supporters  and 
most  zealous  workers.  This,  of  course,  brought  down 
an  avalanche  of  suppositions,  flooded  with  the  sapient 
arguments  of  the  two  oflScials,  who  sent  back  and 
forth  to  each  other  a  wearisome  flood  of  nonsense. 
Elisabeth  quietl}^  asked  three  questions :  — 

"  If  Monsieur  des  Lupeaulx  is  on  our  side,  will 
Monsieur  Baudoyer  be  appointed  in  Monsieur  de  la 
Billardiere's  place?" 

' '  Heavens !  I  should  think  so,"  cried  the  cashier. 

''My  uncle  Bidault  and  Monsieur  Gobseck  helped 
him  in  1814,"  thought  she.  "Is  he  in  debt?"  she 
asked,  aloud. 

''Yes,  "cried  the  cashier  with  a  hissing  and  pro- 
longed sound  on  the  last  letter;  "his  salar}^  was  at- 
tached, but  some  of  the  higher  powers  released  it  by  a 
bill  at  sight." 

' '  Where  is  the  des  Lupeaulx  estate  ?  " 

"  Why,  don't  you  know?  in  the  part  of  the  country 
where  3'our  grandfather  and  your  great-uncle  Bidault 
belong,  in  the  arrondissement  of  the  deputy  who  wants 
to  resign." 


Bureaucracy.  88 

When  her  colossus  of  a  husband  had  gone  to  bed, 
Elisabeth  leaned  over  him,  and  though  he  always 
treated  her  remarks  as  women's  nonsense,  she  said, 
"Perhaps  3'on  will  really  get  Monsieur  de  la  Billar- 
diere's  place." 

"There  you  go  with  your  imaginations!"  said 
Baudoyer  ;  "  leave  Monsieur  Gaudron  to  speak  to  the 
Dauphine  and  don't  meddle  with  politics." 

At  eleven  o'clock,  when  all  were  asleep  in  the  place 
Royale,  Monsieur  des  Lupeaulx  was  leaving  the  Opera 
for  the  rue  Duphot.  This  particular  Wednesday  was 
one  of  Madame  Rabourdin's  most  brilliant  evenings. 
Many  of  her  customary  guests  came  in  from  the 
theatres  and  swelled  the  company  already  assembled, 
among  whom  were  several  celebrities,  such  as :  Canalis 
the  poet,  Schinner  the  painter.  Dr.  Bianchon,  Lucien  de 
Rubempre,  Octave  de  Camps,  the  Comte  de  Granville, 
the  Vicomte  de  Fontaine,  du  Bruel  the  vaudevillist, 
Andoche  Finot  the  journalist,  Derville,  one  of  the  best 
heads  in  the  law  courts,  the  Comte  du  Chatelet,  deputy, 
du  Tillet,  banker,  and  several  elegant  young  men,  such 
as  Paul  de  Manerville  and  the  Vicomte  de  Portenduere. 
Celestine  was  pouring  out  tea  when  the  general-secre- 
tary entered.  Her  dress  that  evening  was  very  becom- 
ing ;  she  wore  a  black  velvet  robe  without  ornament  of 
any  kind,  a  black  gauze  scarf,  her  hair  smoothly  bound 
about  her  head  and  raised  in  a  heavy  braided  mass, 


84  Bureaucracy. 

with  long  curls  d  VAnglaise  falling  on  either  side  her 
face.  The  charms  which  particularly'  distinguished  this 
woman  were  the  Italian  ease  of  her  artistic  nature,  her 
ready  comprehension,  and  the  grace  with  which  she 
welcomed  and  promoted  the  least  appearance  of  a  wish 
on  the  part  of  others.  Nature  had  given  her  an  ele- 
gant, slender  figure,  which  could  sway  lightly  at  a  word, 
black  e3'es  of  oriental  shape,  able,  like  those  of  the 
Chinese  women,  to  see  out  of  their  corners.  She  well 
knew  how  to  manage  a  soft,  insinuating  voice,  which 
threw  a  tender  charm  into  ever}'  word,  even  such  as  she 
merelj"  chanced  to  utter ;  her  feet  were  like  those  we  see 
in  portraits  where  the  painter  boldl}-  lies  and  flatters  his 
sitter  in  the  only  way  which  does  not  compromise  anat- 
om}^  Her  complexion,  a  little  yellow  by  day,  like  that 
of  most  brunettes,  was  dazzling  at  night  under  the  wax 
candles,  which  brought  out  the  brilliancy  of  her  black 
hair  and  eyes.  Her  slender  and  well-defined  outlines 
reminded  an  artist  of  the  Venus  of  the  Middle  Ages 
rendered  b}^  Jean  Goujon,  the  illustrious  sculptor  of 
Diane  de  Poitiers. 

Des  Lupeaulx  stopped  in  the  doorwa}',  and  leaned 
against  the  woodwork.  This  ferret  of  ideas  did  not 
deny  himself  the  pleasure  of  spying  upon  sentiment,  and 
this  woman  interested  him  more  than  tmy  of  the  others 
to  whom  he  had  attached  himself.  Des  Lupeaulx  had 
reached  an  age  when  men  assert  pretensions  in  regard 


Bureaucracy,  85 

to  women.  The  first  white  hairs  lead  to  the  latest  pas- 
sions, all  the  more  violent  because  they  are  astride  of 
vanishing  powers  and  dawning  weakness.  The  age  of 
forty  is  the  age  of  folly,  —  an  age  when  man  wants  to  be 
loved  for  himself;  whereas  at  twenty-five  life  is  so  full 
that  he  has  no  wants.  At  twentj^-five  he  overflows  with 
vigor  and  wastes  it  with  impunity,  but  at  forty  he 
learns  that  to  use  it  in  that  way  is  to  abuse  it.  The 
thoughts  that  came  into  des  Lupeaulx's  mind  at  this 
moment  were  melancholy  ones.  The  nerves  of  the  old 
beau  relaxed ;  the  agreeable  smile,  which  served  as  a 
mask  and  made  the  character  of  his  countenance, 
faded ;  the  real  man  appeared,  and  he  was  horrible. 
Rabourdin  caught  sight  of  him  and  thought,"  What  has 
happened  to  him  ?  can  he  be  disgraced  in  any  way  ?  " 
The  general-secretary  was,  however,  only  thinking  how 
the  pretty  Madame  Colleville,  whose  intentions  were 
exactly  those  of  Madame  Rabourdin,  had  summarily 
abandoned  him  when  it  suited  her  to  do  so.  Rabourdin 
caught  the  sham  statesman's  eyes  fixed  on  his  wife,  and 
he  recorded  the  look  in  his  memory.  He  was  too  keen 
an  observer  not  to  understand  des  Lupeaulx  to  the  bot- 
tom, and  he  deeply  despised  him  ;  but,  as  with  most  busy 
men,  his  feelings  and  sentiments  seldom  came  to  the 
surface.  Absorption  in  a  beloved  work  is  practically 
equivalent  to  the  cleverest  dissimulation,  and  thus  it 
was  that  the  opinions  and  ideas  of  Rabourdin  were  a 


86  Bureaucracy. 

sealed  book  to  des  Lupeaulx.  The  former  was  sorry 
to  see  the  man  in  his  house,  but  he  was  never  willing 
to  oppose  his  wife's  wishes.  At  this  particular  moment, 
while  he  talked  confidentially  with  a  supernumerary  of 
his  office  who  was  destined,  later,  to  pla}^  an  uncon- 
scious part  in  a  political  intrigue  resulting  from  the 
death  of  La  Billardiere,  he  watched,  though  half- ab- 
stractedly, his  wife  and  des  Lupeaulx. 

Here  we  must  explain,  as  much  for  foreigners  as 
for  our  own  grandchildren,  what  a  supernumerary  in 
a  government  office  in  Paris  means. 

The  supernumerary  is  to  the  administration  what 
a  choir-boy  is  to  a  church,  what  the  company's  child 
is  to  the  regiment,  what  the  figurante  is  to  a  theatre ; 
something  artless,  naive,  innocent,  a  being  blinded  by 
illusions.  Without  illusions  what  would  become  of-  any 
of  us?  They  give  strength  to  bear  the  res  angusta 
domi  of  arts  and  the  beginnings  of  all  science  by  inspir- 
ing us  with  faith.  Illusion  is  illimitable  faith.  Now 
the  supernumerar}^  has  faith  in  the  administration ;  he 
never  thinks  it  cold,  cruel,  and  hard,  as  it  reall}'  is. 
There  are  two  kinds  of  supernumeraries,  or  hangers- 
on,  —  one  poor,  the  other  rich.  The  poor  one  is  rich 
in  hope  and  wants  a  place,  the  rich  one  is  poor  in 
spirit  and  wants  nothing.  A  wealthy  family  is  not 
so  foolish  as  to  put  its  able  men  into  the  administra- 
tion.    It  confides   an   unfledged   scion  to  some   head- 


Bureaucracy,  87 

clerk,  or  gives  him  in  charge  of  a  director  who  initi- 
ates him  into  what  Bilboqnet,  that  profound  philosopher, 
called  the  high  comedy  of  government ;  he  is  spared  all 
the  horrors  of  drudgery  and  is  finally  appointed  to 
some  important  office.  The  rich  supernumerary  never 
alarms  the  other  clerks ;  they  know  he  does  not  en- 
danger their  interests,  for  he  seeks  only  the  highest 
posts  in  the  administration.  About  the  period  of 
which  we  write  many  families  were  saying  to  them- 
selves:  "What  can  we  do  with  our  sons?"  The 
army  no  longer  offered  a  chance  for  fortune.  Special 
careers,  such  as  civil  and  military  engineering,  the 
navy,  mining,  and  the  professorial  chair  were  all 
fenced  about  by  strict  regulations  or  to  be  obtained 
only  by  competition ;  whereas  in  the  civil  service  the 
revolving  wheel  which  turned  clerks  into  prefects,  sub- 
prefects,  assessors,  and  collectors,  like  the  figures  in 
a  magic  lantern,  was  subjected  to  no  such  rules  and 
entailed  no  drudgery.  Through  this  easy  gap  emerged 
into  life  the  rich  supernumeraries  who  drove  their  til- 
burys,  dressed  well,  and  wore  moustachios,  all  of  them 
as  impudent  as  parvenus.  Journalists  were  apt  to  per- 
secute the  tribe,  who  were  cousins,  nephews,  broth- 
ers, or  other  relatives  of  some  minister,  some  deputy, 
or  an  influential  peer.  The  humbler  clerks  regarded 
them  as  a  means  of  influence. 

The  poor   supernumerary,  on  the  other  hand,  who 


88  Bureaucracy. 

is  the  only  real  worker,  is  almost  alwaj's  the  son  of 
some  former  clerk's  widow,  who  lives  on  a  meagre 
pension  and  sacrifices  herself  to  support  her  son  until 
he  can  get  a  place  as  copying-clerk,  and  then  dies 
leaving  him  no  nearer  the  head  of  his  department 
than  writer  of  deeds,  order-clerk,  or,  possiblj',  under- 
head-clerk.  Living  always  in  some  locality  where 
rents  are  low,  this  humble  supernumerarj'  starts  earlj^ 
from  home.  For  him  the  Eastern  question  relates 
only  to  the  morning  skies.  To  go  on  foot  and  not 
get  muddied,  to  save  his  clothes,  and  allow  for  the 
time  he  may  lose  in  standing  under  shelter  during  a 
shower,  are  the  preoccupations  of  his  mind.  The 
street  pavements,  the  flagging  of  the  quays  and  the 
boulevards,  when  first  laid  down,  were  a  boon  to 
him.  If,  for  some  extraordinary  reason,  you  happen 
to  be  in  the  streets  of  Paris  at  half-past  seven  or 
eight  o'clock  of  a  winter's  morning,  and  see  through 
piercing  cold  or  fog  or  rain  a  timid,  pale  young  man 
loom  up,  cigarless,  take  notice  of  his  pockets.  You 
will  be  sure  to  see  the  outline  of  a  roll  which  his 
mother  has  given  him  to  stay  his  stomach  between 
breakfast  and  dinner.  The  guilelessness  of  the  su- 
pernumerary does  not  last  long.  A  j^outh  enlight- 
ened b}^  gleams  of  Parisian  life  soon  measures  the 
frightful  distance  that  sepai'ates  him  from  a  head- 
clerkship,  a  distance  which  no  mathematician,  neither 


Bureaucracy.  89 

Archimedes,  nor  Leibnitz,  nor  Laplace  has  ever  reck- 
oned, the  distance  that  exists  between  0  and  the 
figure  1.  He  begins  to  perceive  the  impossibilities  of 
his  career ;  he  hears  talk  of  favoritism ;  he  discovers 
the  intrigues  of  officials ;  he  sees  the  questionable 
means  by  which  his  superiors  have  pushed  their  way, 
—  one  has  married  a  3'ouug  woman  who  made  a  false 
step ;  another,  the  natural  daughter  of  a  minister ; 
this  one  shouldered  the  responsibility  of  another's 
fault ;  that  one,  full  of  talent,  risks  his  health  in  do- 
ing, with  the  perseverance  of  a  mole,  prodigies  of 
work  which  the  man  of  influence  feels  incapable  of 
doing  for  himself,  though  he  takes  the  credit.  Every- 
thing is  known  in  a  government  office.  The  incapable 
man  has  a  wife  with  a  clear  head,  who  has  pushed 
him  along  and  got  him  nominated  for  deputy ;  if  he 
has  not  talent  enough  for  an  office,  he  cabals  in  the 
Chamber.  The  wife  of  another  has  a  statesman  at 
her  feet.  A  third  is  the  hidden  informant  of  a  pow- 
erful journalist.  Often  the  disgusted  and  hopeless 
supernumerary  sends  in  his  resignation.  About  three 
fourths  of  his  class  leave  the  government  employ  with- 
out ever  obtaining  an  appointment,  and  their  number 
is  winnowed  down  to  either  those  young  men  who  are 
foolish  or  obstinate  enough  to  say  to  themselves,  "  I 
have  been  here  three  years,  and  I  must  end  sooner  or 
later  by  getting  a  place,"  or  to  those  who  are   con- 


90  Bureaucracy. 

scious  of  a  vocation  for  the  work.  Undoubtedly  the 
position  of  supernumerary  in  a  government  office  is 
precisely  what  the  novitiate  is  in  a  religious  order,  — 
a  trial.  It  is  a  rough  trial.  The  State  discovers  how 
many  of  them  can  bear  hunger,  thirst,  and  penury  with- 
out breaking  down,  how  many  can  toil  without  revolting 
against  it ;  it  learns  which  temperaments  can  bear  up 
under  the  horrible  experience  —  or  if  3'ou  like,  the  dis- 
ease —  of  government  official  life.  From  this  point  of 
view  the  apprenticeship  of  the  supernumerarj-,  instead 
of  being  an  infamous  device  of  the  government  to  obtain 
labor  gratis^  becomes  a  useful  institution. 

The  young  man  with  whom  Rabourdin  was  talking 
was  a  poor  supernumerary^  named  Sebastien  de  la 
Roche,  who  had  picked  his  way  on  the  points  of  his 
toes,  without  incurring  the  least  splash  upon  his  boots, 
from  the  rue  du  Roi-Dore  in  the  Marais.  He  talked 
of  his  mamma,  and  dared  not  raise  his  eyes  to  Ma- 
dame Rabourdin,  whose  house  appeared  to  him  as 
gorgeous  as  the  Louvre.  He  was  careful  to  show  his 
gloves,  well  cleaned  with  india-rubber,  as  little  as  he 
could.  His  poor  mother  had  put  five  francs  in  his 
pocket  in  case  it  became  absolutel}^  necessary  that  he 
should  play  cards ;  but  she  enjoined  him  to  take  noth- 
ing, to  remain  standing,  and  to  be  \evy  careful  not 
to  knock  over  a  lamp  or  the  bric-a-brac  from  an  etagere. 
His  dress   was   all  of  the   strictest  black.      His   fair 


Bureduei'acy.  ^1 

face,  his  eyes,  of  a  fine  shade  of  green  with  golden 
reflections,  were  in  keeping  with  a  handsome  head  of 
auburn  hair.  The  poor  lad  looked  furtively  at  Ma- 
dame Rabourdin,  whispering  to  himself,  "How  beau- 
tiful !  "  and  was  likely  to  dream  of  that  fairy  when  he 
went  to  bed. 

Rabourdin  had  noted  a  vocation  for  his  work  in  the 
lad,  and  as  he  himself  took  the  whole  service  seriously, 
he  felt  a  lively  interest  in  him.  He  guessed  the  poverty 
of  his  mother's  home,  kept  together  on  a  widow's  pen- 
sion of  seven  hundred  francs  a  year  —  for  the  education 
of  the  son,  who  was  just  out  of  college,  had  absorbed  all 
her  savings.  He  therefore  treated  the  youth  almost 
paternally  ;  often  endeavored  to  get  him  some  fee  from 
the  Council,  or  paid  it  from  his  own  pocket.  He  over- 
whelmed Sebastien  with  work,  trained  him,  and  allowed 
him  to  do  the  work  of  du  Bruel's  place,  for  which  that 
vaudevillist,  otherwise  known  as  Cursy,  paid  him  three 
hundred  francs  out  of  his  salary.  In  the  minds  of 
Madame  de  la  Roche  and  her  son,  Rabourdin  was  at 
once  a  great  man,  a  tyrant,  and  an  angel.  On  him  all 
the  poor  fellow's  hopes  of  getting  an  appointment  de- 
pended, and  the  lad's  devotion  to  his  chief  was  bound- 
less. He  dined  once  a  fortnight  in  the  rue  Duphot; 
but  always  at  a  family  dinner,  invited  by  Rabourdin 
himself;  Madame  asked  him  to  evening  parties  only 
when  she  wanted  partners. 


dt  Bureaucracy, 

At  that  moment  Rabourdin  was  scolding  poor  Sebas- 
tien,  the  only  human  being  who  was  in  the  secret  of 
his  immense  labors.  The  youth  copied  and  recopied 
the  famous  "  statement,"  written  on  a  hundred  and  fifty 
folio  sheets,  besides  the  corroborative  documents,  and 
the  summing  up  (contained  in  one  page) ,  with  the  esti- 
mates bracketed,  the  captions  in  a  running  hand,  and 
the  sub-titles  in  a  round  one.  Full  of  enthusiasm,  in 
spite  of  his  merel}^  mechanical  participation  in  the  great 
idea,  the  lad  of  twenty  would  rewrite  whole  pages  for  a 
single  blot,  and  made  it  his  glor}^  to  touch  up  the  writ- 
ing, regarding  it  as  the  element  of  a  noble  undertaking. 
Sebastien  had  that  afternoon  committed  the  great  im- 
prudence of  carr3'ing  into  the  general  office,  for  the 
purpose  of  copying,  a  paper  which  contained  the  most 
dangerous  facts  to  make  known  prematurely,  namely, 
a  memorandum  relating  to  the  officials  in  the  central 
offices  of  all  the  ministries,  with  facts  concerning  their 
fortunes,  actual  and  prospective,  together  with  the  indi- 
vidual enterprises  of  each  outside  of  his  government 
employment. 

All  government  clerks  in  Paris  who  are  not  endowed, 
like  Rabourdin,  with  patriotic  ambition  or  other  marked 
capacity,  usually  add  the  profits  of  some  industry  to  the 
salary  of  their  office,  in  order  to  eke  out  a  living.  A 
number  do  as  Monsieur  Saillard  did,  —  put  their  money 
into  a  business  carried  on  by  others,  and  spend  their 


Bureaucracy.  93 

evenings  in  keeping  the  books  of  their  associates. 
Many  clerks  are  married  to  miUiners,  licensed  tobacco 
dealers,  women  who  have  charge  of  the  public  lotteries 
or  reading-rooms.  Some,  like  the  husband  of  Madame 
Colleville,  Celestine's  rival,  pla}^  in  the  orchestra  of  a 
theatre ;  others  like  du  Bruel,  write  vaudevilles,  comic 
operas,  melodramas,  or  act  as  prompters  behind  the 
scenes.  We  may  mention  among  them  Messrs.  Pla- 
nard,  Sewrin,  etc.  Pigault-Lebrun,  Piis,  Duvicquet, 
in  their  day,  were  in  government  employ.  Monsieur 
Scribe's  head-librarian  was  a  clerk  in  the  Treasury. 

Besides  such  information  as  this,  Rabourdin's  mem- 
orandum contained  an  inquiry  into  the  moral  and  ph3'si- 
cal  capacities  and  faculties  necessary  in  those  who  were 
to  examine  the  intelligence,  aptitude  for  labor,  and 
sound  health  of  the  applicants  for  government  service, 
—  three  indispensable  qualities  in  men  who  are  to 
bear  the  burden  of  public  affairs  and  should  do  their 
business  well  and  quickly.  But  this  careful  study,  the 
result  of  ten  years'  observation  and  experience,  and  of 
a  long  acquaintance  with  men  and  things  obtained  by 
intercourse  with  the  various  functionaries  in  the  differ- 
ent ministries,  would  assuredly  have,  to  those  who  did 
not  see  its  purport  and  connection,  an  air  of  treachery 
and  police  espial.  If  a  single  page  of  these  papers 
were  to  fall  under  the  eye  of  those  concerned,  Monsieur 
Rabourdin  was  lost.     Sebastien,  who  admired  his  chief 


94  Bureaucracy. 

without  reservation,  and  who  was,  as  yet,  wholly  igno- 
rant of  the  evils  of  bureaucracy,  had  the  follies  of  guile- 
lessness  as  well  as  its  grace.  Blamed  on  a  former 
occasion  for  carrying  away  these  papers,  he  now  braveh- 
acknowledged  his  fault  to  its  fullest  extent ;  he  related 
how  he  had  put  away  both  the  memorandum  and  the 
cop3^  carefully  in  a  box  in  the  office  where  no  one 
would  ever  find  them.  Tears  rolled  from  his  eyes  as 
he  realized  the  greatness  of  his  offence. 

''Come,  come!"  said  Rabourdin,  kindly.  "Don't 
be  so  imprudent  again,  but  never  mind  now.  Go  to 
the  office  very  early  to-morrow  morning ;  here  is  the 
key  of  a  small  safe  which  is  in  m}'  roller  secretarj' ;  it 
shuts  with  a  combination  lock.  You  can  open  it  with 
the  word  '  sky ; '  put  the  memorandum  and  your  copy 
into  it  and  shut  it  carefully." 

This  proof  of  confidence  dried  the  poor  fellow's 
tears.  Rabourdin  advised  him  to  take  a  cup  of  tea  and 
some  cakes. 

' '  Mamma  forbids  me  to  drink  tea,  on  account  of  my 
chest,"  said  S^bastien. 

"  Well,  then,  my  dear  child,"  said  the  imposing  Ma- 
dame Rabourdin,  who  wished  to  appear  gracious,"  here 
are  some  sandwiches  and  cream;  come  and  sit  by 
me." 

She  made  Sebastien  sit  down  beside  her,  and  the 
lad's  heart  rose  in  his  throat  as  he  felt  the  robe  of  this 


Bureaucracy.  95 

divinity  brush  the  sleeve  of  his  coat.  Just  then  the 
beautiful  woman  caught  sight  of  Monsieur  des  Lupeaulx 
standing  in  the  doorway.  She  smiled,  and  not  waiting 
till  he  came  to  her,  she  went  to  him. 

*'"Why  do  you  stay  there  as  if  you  were  sulking?" 
she  asked. 

"  I  am  not  sulking,"  he  returned;  "  I  came  to  an- 
nounce some  good  news,  but  the  thought  has  overtaken 
me  that  it  will  only  add  to  your  severity  towards  me. 
I  fancy  myself  six  months  hence  almost  a  stranger  to 
you.  Yes,  you  are  too  clever,  and  I  too  experienced,  — 
too  blase,  if  yow.  like,  —  for  either  of  us  to  deceive  the 
other.  Your  end  is  attained  without  its  costing  you 
more  than  a  few  smiles  and  gracious  words." 

"Deceive  each  other!  what  can  you  mean?"  she 
cried,  in  a  hurt  tone. 

"  Yes  ;  Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere  is  dying,  and  from 
what  the  minister  told  me  this  evening  I  judge  that 
your  husband  will  be  appointed  in  his  place." 

He  thereupon  related  what  he  called  his  scene  at  the 
ministry  and  the  jealousy  of  the  countess,  repeating  her 
remarks  about  the  invitation  he  had  asked  her  to  send 
to  Madame  Rabourdin. 

''Monsieur  des  Lupeaulx,"  said  Madame  Rabourdin, 
with  dignity,  "  permit  me  to  tell  j^ou  that  my  hus- 
band is  the  oldest  head-clerk  as  well  as  the  most 
capable  man  in  the  division  ;  also  that  the  appointment 


96  Bureaucracy. 

of  La  Billardiere  over  his  head  made  much  talk  in  the 
service,  and  that  my  husband  has  sta3'ed  on  for  the  last 
year  expecting  this  promotion,  for  which  he  has  really 
no  competitor  and  no  rival." 

"  That  is  true." 

"Well,  then,"  she  resumed,  smiling  and  showing 
her  handsome  teeth,  "  how  can  you  suppose  that  the 
friendship  I  feel  for  j'ou  is  marred  by  a  thought  of 
self-interest?  Why  should  you  think  me  capable  of 
that?" 

Des  Lupeaulx  made  a  gesture  of  admiring  denial. 

"Ah!"  she  continued,  "the  heart  of  woman  will 
always  remain  a  secret  for  even  the  cleverest  of  men. 
Yes,  I  welcomed  you  to  my  house  with  the  greatest 
pleasure ;  and  there  was,  I  admit,  a  motive  of  self- 
interest  behind  my  pleasure  —  " 

"Ah!" 

"  You  have  a  career  before  you,"  she  whispered  in 
his  ear,  "  a  future  without  limit;  you  will  be  deputy, 
minister ! "  (What  happiness  for  an  ambitious  man 
when  such  things  as  these  are  warbled  in  his  ear  by  the 
sweet  voice  of  a  pretty  woman  !)  "  Oh,  yes  !  I  know 
you  better  than  you  know  yourself.  Rabourdin  is  a 
man  who  could  be  of  immense  service  to  3'ou  in  such 
a  career ;  he  could  do  the  steady  work  while  you  were 
in  the  Chamber.  Just  as  you  dream  of  the  minis- 
try, so  I  dream  of  seeing   Rabourdin  in  the  Council 


Bureaucracy.  97 

of  State,  and  general  director.  It  is  therefore  my 
object  to  draw  together  two  men  who  can  never  in- 
jure, but,  on  the  contrary,  must  greatly  help  each 
other.  Isn't  that  a  woman's  mission?  If  you  are 
friends,  yoM  will  both  rise  the  faster,  and  it  is  surely 
high  time  that  each  of  you  made  hay.  I  have  burned 
my  ships/'  she  added,  smiling.  "  But  you  are  not 
as  frank  with  me  as  I  have  been  with  you.'* 

**  You  would  not  listen  to  me  if  I  were,"  he  replied, 
with  a  melancholy  air,  in  spite  of  the  deep  inward 
satisfaction  her  remarks  gave  him.  "  What  would 
such  future  promotions  avail  me,  if  you  dismiss  me 
now  ?  " 

''  Before  I  listen  to  you,"  she  replied,  with  native 
Parisian  liveliness,  "  we  must  be  able  to  understand 
each  other." 

And  she  left  the  old  fop  to  go  and  speak  with 
Madame  de  Chessel,  a  countess  from  the  provinces, 
who  seemed  about  to  take  leave. 

*'  That  is  a  very  extraordinary  woman,'*  said  des 
Lupeaulx  to  himself.  ''  I  don't  know  my  own  self 
when  I  am  with  her." 

Accordingly,  this  man  of  no  principle,  who  six  years 
earlier  had  kept  a  ballet-girl,  and  who  now,  thanks  to 
his  position,  made  himself  a  seraglio  with  the  prett}'' 
wives  of  the  under-clerks,  and  lived  in  the  world  of 
journalists  and  actresses,  became  devotedly  attentive 

7 


98  Bureaucracy, 

all  the  evening  to  Celestine,  and  was  the  last  to  lepe 
the  house.  I 

"At  last!"  thought  Madame  Rabourdin,  as  she 
undressed  that  night,  "we  have  the  place!  Twelve 
thousand  francs  a  year  and  perquisites,  beside  the 
rents  of  our  farm  at  Grajeux,  —  nearly  twenty  thou- 
sand francs  a  year.  It  is  not  affluence,  but  at  least 
it  isn't  poverty." 


Bureaucracy* 


TV. 


THREE-QUARTER  LENGTH  PORTRAITS  OF  CERTAIN 
GOVERNMENT   OFFICIALS. 

If  it  were  possible  for  literature  to  use  the  micro- 
scope of  the  Leuwenhoeks,  the  Malpighis,  and  the 
Raspails  (an  attempt  once  made  by  Hoffmann,  of 
Berlin),  and  if  we  could  magnify  and  then  picture 
the  teredos  navalis,  in  other  words,  those  ship- worms 
which  brought  Holland  within  an  inch  of  collapsing 
by  honey-combing  her  dykes,  we  might  have  been 
able  to  give  a  more  distinct  idea  of  Messieurs  Gigon- 
net,  Baudoyer,  Saillard,  Gaudron,  Falleix,  Transon, 
Godard  and  company,  borers  and  burrowers,  who 
proved  their  undermining  power  in  the  thirtieth  year 
of  this  centur}'. 

But  now  it  is  time  to  show  another  set  of  teredos^ 
who  burrowed  and  swarmed  in  the  government  offices 
where  the  principal  scenes  of  our  present  study  took 
place. 

In  Paris  nearly  all  these  government  bureaus  re- 
semble each  other.  Into  whatever  ministry  j^ou  pene- 
trate to  ask  some  slight  favor,  or  to  get  redress  for 


loo  Bureaucracy. 

a  trifling  wrong,  you  will  find  the  same  dark  corri- 
dors, ill-lighted  stairways,  doors  with  oval  panes  of 
glass  like  eyes,  as  at  the  theatre.  In  the  first  room 
as  you  enter  ,you  will  find  the  oflfice  servant;  in  the 
second,  the  under-clerks ;  the  private  office  of  the 
second  head-clerk  is  to  the  right  or  left,  and  further 
on  is  that  of  the  head  of  the  bureau.  As  to  the  im- 
portant personage  called,  under  the  Empire,  head  of 
division,  then,  under  the  Restoration,  director,  and 
now  by  the  former  name,  head  or  chief  of  division, 
he  lives  either  above  or  below  the  offices  of  his  three 
or  four  diflerent  bureaus. 

Speaking  in  the  administrative  sense,  a  bureau  con- 
sists of  a  man-servant,  several  supernumeraries  (who 
do  the  work  gratis  for  a  certain  number  of  years), 
various  copying  clerks,  writers  of  bills  and  deeds, 
order  clerks,  principal  clerks,  second  or  under  head- 
clerk,  and  head-clerk,  otherwise  called  head  or  chief 
of  the  bureau.  These  denominational  titles  vary 
under  some  administrations ;  for  instance,  the  order- 
clerks  are  sometimes  called  auditors,  or  again,  book- 
keepers. 

Paved  like  the  corridor,  and  hung  with  a  shabby 
paper,  the  first  room,  where  the  servant  is  stationed, 
is  furnished  with  a  stove,  a  large  black  table  with 
inkstand,  pens,  and  paper,  and  benches,  but  no  mats 
on  which  to  wipe  the  public  feet.     The  clerk's  office 


Bureaueracy^,  101 

beyond  is  a  large  room,  tolerably  well  lighted,  but  sel- 
dom floored  with  wood.  Wooden  floors  and  fireplaces 
are  commonl}'  kept  sacred  to  heads  of  bureaus  and 
divisions ;  and  so  are  closets,  wardrobes,  mahogany 
tables,  sofas  and  armchairs  covered  with  red  or  green 
morocco,  silk  curtains,  and  other  articles  of  adminis- 
trative luxury.  The  clerk's  oflSce  contents  itself  with 
a  stove,  the  pipe  of  which  goes  into  the  chimney,  if 
there  be  a  chimney.  The  wall  paper  is  plain  and  all 
of  one  color,  usually  green  or  brown.  The  tables  are 
of  black  wood.  The  private  characteristics  of  the 
several  clerks  often  crop  out  in  their  method  of  set- 
tling themselves  at  their  desks,  —  the  chilly  one  has 
a  wooden  footstool  under  his  feet;  the  man  with  a 
bilious  temperament  has  a  metal  mat;  the  lymphatic 
being  who  dreads  draughts  constructs  a  fortification 
of  boxes  as  a  screen.  The  door  of  the  under- head- 
clerk's  oflSce  always  stands  open  so  that  he  may  keep 
an  eye  to  some  extent  on  his  subordinates. 

Perhaps  an  exact  description  of  Monsieur  de  la 
Billardiere's  division  will  suflEice  to  give  foreigners  and 
provincials  an  idea  of  the  internal  manners  and  cus- 
toms of  a  government  office ;  the  chief  features  of 
which  are  probably  much  the  same  in  the  civil  service 
of  all  European  governments. 

In  the  first  place,  picture  to  yourself  the  man  who  is 
thus  described  in  the  Yearly  Register: — 


102  Bureaucracy. 

*'  Chief  of  Division.  —  Monsieur  la  baron  Flamet  de  la 
Billardiere  (Athanase-Jean-Fran9ois-Michel)  formerly  pro- 
vost-marshal of  the  department  of  the  Correze,  gentleman  in 
ordinary  of  the  bed-chamber,  president  of  the  college  of  the 
department  of  the  Dordogne,  officer  of  the  Legion  of  honor, 
knight  of  Saint  Louis  and  of  the  foreign  orders  of  Christ, 
Isabella,  Saint  Wladimir,  etc.,  member  of  the  Academy  of 
Gers,  and  other  learned  bodies,  vice-president  of  the  Society 
of  Belles-lettres,  member  of  the  Association  of  Saint-Joseph 
and  of  the  Society  of  Prisons,  one  of  the  mayors  of  Paris, 
etc." 

The  personage  who  requires  so  much  typographic 
space  was  at  this  time  occupying  an  area  five  feet 
six  in  length  by  thirty-six  inches  in  width  in  a  bed, 
his  head  adorned  with  a  cotton  night-cap  tied  on 
by  flame-colored  ribbons ;  attended  by  Despleins,  the 
King's  surgeon,  and  young  doctor  Bianchon,  flanked  by 
two  old  female  relatives,  surrounded  by  phials  of  all 
kinds,  bandages,  appliances,  and  various  mortuary  in- 
struments, and  watched  over  by  the  curate  of  Saint-Roch, 
who  was  advising  him  to  think  of  his  salvation. 

La  Billardiere's  division  occupied  the  upper  floor  of 
a  magnificent  mansion,  in  which  the  vast  oflScial  ocean 
of  a  ministry  was  contained.  A  wide  landing  separated 
its  two  bureaus,  the  doors  of  which  were  duly  labelled. 
The  private  offices  and  antechambers  of  the  heads  of 
the  two  bureaus,  Monsieur  Rabourdin  and  Monsieur 
Baudoyer,  were  below  on  the  second  floor,  and  beyond 


Bureaucracy,  103 

that  of  Monsieur  Rabourdin  were  the  antechamber, 
salon,  and  two  offices  of  Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere. 
On  the  first  floor,  divided  in  two  b}-  an  entresol^  were 
the  living-rooms  and  office  of  Monsieur  Ernest  de  la 
Briere,  an  occult  and  powerful  personage  who  must  be 
described  in  a  few  words,  for  he  well  deserves  a  paren- 
thesis. This  young  man  held,  during  the  whole  time 
that  this  particular  administration  lasted,  the  position  of 
private  secretary  to  the  minister.  His  apartment  was 
connected  by  a  secret  door  with  the  private  office  of 
his  Excellency.  A  private  secretary  is  to  the  minister 
himself  what  des  Lupeaulx  was  to  the  ministry  at  large. 
The  same  difference  existed  between  young  La  Briere 
and  des  Lupeaulx  that  there  is  between  an  aide-de- 
camp and  a  chief  of  staff.  This  ministerial  apprentice 
decamps  when  his  protector  leaves  office,  returning 
sometimes  when  he  returns.  If  the  minister  enjoj'S 
the  royal  favor  when  he  falls,  or  still  has  parliamentary 
hopes,  he  takes  his  secretary  with  him  into  retirement 
only  to  bring  him  back  on  his  return ;  otherwise  he 
puts  him  to  grass  in  some  of  the  various  administrative 
pastures,  —  for  instance,  in  the  Court  of  Exchequer,  that 
wayside  refuge  where  private  secretaries  wait  for  the 
storm  to  blow  over.  The  young  man  is  not  precisely 
a  government  official ;  he  is  a  political  character,  how- 
ever ;  and  sometimes  his  politics  are  limited  to  those 
of  one  man.     When  we  think  of  the  number  of  letters 


104  Bureaucfacy, 

it  is  the  private  secretary's  fate  to  open  and  read,  be- 
sides all  his  other  avocations,  it  is  very  evident  that 
under  a  monarchical  government  his  services  would  be 
well  paid  for.  A  drudge  of  this  kind  costs  ten  or 
twenty  thousand  francs  a  year ;  and  he  enjoys,  more- 
over, the  opera-boxes,  the  social  invitations,  and  the  car- 
riages  of  the  minister.  The  Emperor  of  Russia  would  be 
thankful  to  be  able  to  pay  fift}^  thousand  a  year  to  one 
of  these  amiable  constitutional  poodles,  so  gentle,  so 
nicely  curled,  so  caressing,  so  docile,  always  spick  and 
span,  —  careful  watch-dogs  besides,  and  faithful  to  a 
degree  !  But  the  private  secretary  is  a  product  of  the 
representative  government  hot-house  ;  he  is  propagated 
and  developed  there,  and  there  only.  Under  a  mon- 
archy you  will  find  none  but  courtiers  and  vassals, 
whereas  under  a  constitutional  government  you  maj^  be 
flattered,  served,  and  adulated  by  free  men.  In  France 
ministers  are  better  off  than  kings  or  women ;  they 
have  some  one  who  thoroughly  understands  them. 
Perhaps,  indeed,  the  private  secretary  is  to  be  pitied 
as  much  as  women  and  white  paper.  They  are  nonenti- 
ties who  are  made  to  bear  all  things.  The}'  are  allowed 
no  talent  except  hidden  ones,  which  must  be  employed  in 
the  service  of  their  ministers.  A  public  show  of  talent 
would  ruin  them.  The  private  secretary  is  therefore 
an  intimate  friend  in  the  gift  of  government  —  How- 
ever, let  us  return  to  the  bureaus. 


hureaucfacy,  l05 

Three  men-servants  lived  in  peace  in  the  Billardiere 
division,  to  wit :  a  footman  for  the  two  bureaus,  an- 
other for  the  service  of  the  two  chiefs,  and  a  third  for 
the  director  of  the  division  himself.  All  three  were 
lodged,  warmed,  and  clothed  by  the  State,  and  wore  the 
well-known  livery  of  the  State,  blue  coat  with  red  pip- 
ings for  undress,  and  broad  red,  white,  and  blue  braid 
for  great  occasions.  La  Billardiere's  man  had  the  air 
of  a  gentleman-usher,  an  innovation  which  gave  an 
aspect  of  dignity  to  the  division. 

Pillars  of  the  ministry,  experts  in  all  manners  and 
customs  bureaucratic,  well-warmed  and  clothed  at  the 
State's  expense,  growing  rich  by  reason  of  their  few 
wants,  these  lackeys  saw  completely  through  the  govern- 
ment officials,  collectively  and  individually.  They  had 
no  better  way  of  amusing  their  idle  hours  than  by  ob- 
serving these  personages  and  studying  their  peculiarities. 
They  knew  how  far  to  trust  the  clerks  with  loans  of 
money,  doing  their  various  commissions  with  absolute 
discretion  ;  they  pawned  and  took  out  of  pawn,  bought 
up  bills  when  due,  and  lent  money  without  interest,  albeit 
no  clerk  ever  borrowed  of  them  without  returning  a 
*' gratification."  These  servants  without  a  master  re- 
ceived a  salary  of  nine  hundred  francs  a  year ;  new  years* 
gifts  and  "  gratifications  "  brought  their  emoluments  to 
twelve  hundred  francs,  and  they  made  almost  as  much 
more  by  serving  breakfasts  to  the  clerks  at  the  oflSce. 


106  Bureaucracy. 

The  elder  of  these  men,  who  was  also  the  richest, 
waited  upon  the  main  body  of  the  clerks.  He  was  sixty 
3'ears  of  age,  with  white  hair  cropped  short  like  a  brush  ; 
stout,  thickset,  and  apoplectic  about  the  neck,  with  a 
vulgar  pimpled  face,  gra}^  eyes,  and  a  mouth  like  a  fur- 
nace door ;  such  was  the  profile  portrait  of  Antoine,  the 
oldest  attendant  at  the  ministr}'.  He  had  brought  his 
two  nephews,  Laurent  and  Gabriel,  from  Echelles  in 
Savoie,  —  one  to  serve  the  heads  of  the  bureaus,  the 
other  the  director  himself.  All  three  came  to  open  the 
offices  and  clean  them,  between  seven  and  eight  o'clock 
in  the  morning ;  at  which  time  they  read  the  news- 
papers and  talked  civil  service  politics  from  their  point 
of  view  with  the  servants  of  other  divisions,  exchanging 
the  bureaucratic  gossip.  In  common  with  servants  of 
modern  houses  who  know  their  masters'  private  affairs 
thoroughly,  they  lived  at  the  ministry  like  spiders  at 
the  centre  of  a  web,  where  they  felt  the  slightest  jar  of 
the  fabric. 

On  a  Thursday  morning,  the  da}-  after  the  ministerial 
reception  and  Madame  Rabourdin's  evening  party,  just 
as  Antoine  was  trimming  his  beard  and  his  nephews 
were  assisting  him  in  the  antechamber  of  the  division 
on  the  upper  floor,  they  were  surprised  by  the  unex- 
pected arrival  of  one  of  the  clerks. 

"  That 's  Monsieur  Dutocq,"  said  Antoine,  "  I  know 
him  by  that  pickpocket  step  of  his.    He  is  always  mov- 


Bureaucracy.  107 

ing  round  on  the  sly,  that  man.  He  is  on  your  back 
before  you  know  it.  Yesterday,  contrary  to  his  usual 
ways,  he  outstayed  the  last  man  in  the  office ;  such  a 
thing  has  n't  happened  three  times  since  he  has  been  at 
the  ministr3\" 

Here  follows  the  portrait  of  Monsiur  Dutocq,  order- 
clerk  in  the  Rabourdin  bureau  :  Thirty-eight  years  old, 
oblong  face  and  bilious  skin,  grizzled  hair  always  cut 
close,  low  forehead,  heavy  eyebrows  meeting  together, 
a  crooked  nose  and  pinched  lips  ;  tall,  the  right  shoulder 
slightly  higher  than  the  left ;  brown  coat,  black  waist- 
coat, silk  cravat,  yellowish  trousers,  black  woollen 
stockings,  and  shoes  with  flapping  bows ;  thus  you  be- 
hold him.  Idle  and  incapable,  he  hated  Rabourdin,  — 
naturally  enough,  for  Rabourdin  had  no  vice  to  flatter, 
and  no  bad  or  weak  side  on  which  Dutocq  could  make 
himself  useful.  Far  too  noble  to  injure  a  clerk,  the  chief 
was  also  too  clear-sighted  to  be  deceived  by  an}^  make- 
believe.  Dutocq  kept  his  place  therefore  solely  through 
Rabourdin's  generosity,  and  was  very  certain  that  he 
could  never  be  promoted  if  the  latter  succeeded  La 
Billardiere.  Though  he  knew  himself  incapable  of  im- 
portant work,  Dutocq  was  well  aware  that  in  a  govern- 
ment office  incapacity  is  no  hindrance  to  advancement ; 
La  Billardiere's  own  appointment  over  the  head  of  so 
capable  a  man  as  Rabourdin  had  been  a  striking  and 
fatal  example  of  this.     Wickedness  combined  with  self- 


108  Bureaucracy, 

interest  works  with  a  power  equivalent  to  that  of  intel- 
lect ;  evilly  disposed  and  wholly  self-interested,  Dutocq 
had  endeavored  to  strengthen  his  position  by  becoming  a 
spy  in  all  the  offices.  After  1816  he  assumed  a  marked 
religious  tone,  foreseeing  the  favor  which  the  fools  of 
those  days  would  bestow  on  those  they  indiscriminatelj^ 
called  Jesuits.  Belonging  to  that  fraternitj^  in  spirit, 
though  not  admitted  to  its  rites,  Dutocq  went  from  bu- 
reau to  bureau,  sounded  consciences  b}^  recounting  im- 
moral jests,  and  then  reported  and  paraphrased  results 
to  des  Lupeaulx ;  the  latter  thus  learned  all  the  trivial 
events  of  the  ministrj^  and  often  surprised  the  minister 
by  his  consummate  knowledge  of  what  was  going  on. 
He  tolerated  Dutocq  under  the  idea  that  circumstances 
might  some  day  make  him  useful,  were  it  onl}*  to  get 
him  or  some  distinguished  friend  of  his  out  of  a  scrape 
by  a  disgraceful  marriage.  The  two  understood  each 
other  well.  Dutocq  had  succeeded  Monsieur  Poiret  the 
elder,  who  had  retired  in  1814,  and  now  lived  in  the 
pension  Vauquer  in  the  Latin  quarter.  Dutocq  himself 
lived  in  a  pension  in  the  rue  de  Beaune,  and  spent  his 
evenings  in  the  Palais-Roj^al,  sometimes  going  to  the 
theatre,  thanks  to  du  Bruel,  who  gave  him  an  author's 
ticket  about  once  a  week.  And  now,  a  word  on  du 
Bruel. 

Though  Sebastien  did  his  work  at  the  office  for  the 
small  compensation  we  have  mentioned,  du  Bruel  was 


Bureaucracy,  109 

in  the  habit  of  coming  there  to  advertise  the  fact  that 
he  was  the  under-head-clerk  and  to  draw  his  salary. 
His  real  work  was  that  of  dramatic  critic  to  a  leading 
ministerial  journal,  in  which  he  also  wrote  articles  in- 
spired by  the  ministers,  —  a  very  well  understood, 
clearly  defined,  and  quite  unassailable  position.  Du 
Bruel  was  not  lacking  in  those  diplomatic  little  tricks 
which  go  so  far  to  conciliate  general  good-will.  He 
sent  Madame  Rabourdin  an  opera-box  for  a  first  rep- 
resentation, took  her  there  in  a  carriage  and  brought 
her  back,  —  an  attention  which  evidentlj^  pleased  her. 
Rabourdin,  who  was  never  exacting  with  his  subordi- 
nates allowed  du  Bruel  to  go  off  to  rehearsals,  come  to 
the  oflSce  at  his  own  hours,  and  work  at  his  vaudevilles 
when  there.  Monsieur  le  Due  de  Chaulieu,  the  minis- 
ter, knew  that  du  Bruel  was  writing  a  novel  which  was 
to  be  dedicated  to  himself.  Dressed  with  the  careless 
ease  of  a  theatre  man,  du  Bruel  wore,  in  the  morning, 
trousers  strapped  under  his  feet,  shoes  with  gaiters,  a 
waistcoat  evidently  vamped  over,  an  olive  surtout,  and 
a  black  cravat.  At  night  he  played  the  gentleman  in 
elegant  clothes.  He  lived,  for  good  reasons,  in  the 
same  house  as  Florine,  an  actress  for  whom  he  wrote 
plays.  Du  Bruel,  or  to  give  him  his  pen  name,  Cursy, 
was  working  just  now  at  a  piece  in  five  acts  for  the 
Fran9ais.  Sebastien  was  devoted  to  the  author,  —  who 
occasionally  gave  him  tickets  to  the  pit,  —  and  applauded 


110  Bureaucracy. 

his  pieces  at  the  parts  which  du  Bruel  told  him  were  of 
doubtful  interest,  with  all  the  faith  aud  enthusiasm  of 
his  years.  In  fact,  the  3'outh  looked  upon  the  play- 
wright as  a  great  author,  and  it  was  to  Sebastien  that 
du  Bruel  said,  the  da}'  after  a  first  representation  of  a 
vaudeville  produced,  like  all  vaudevilles,  by  three  col- 
laborators, '^The  audience  preferred  the  scenes  written 
by  two." 

"Why  don't  you  write  alone?"  asked  Sebastien, 
na'ivel}'. 

There  were  good  reasons  why  du  Bruel  did  not  write 
alone.  He  was  the  third  of  an  author.  A  dramatic 
writer,  as  few  people  know,  is  made  up  of  three  indi- 
viduals :  first,  the  man  with  brains  who  invents  the  sub- 
ject and  maps  out  the  structure,  or  scenario.,  of  the  vau- 
deville ;  second,  the  plodder,  who  works  the  piece  into 
shape  ;  and  third,  the  toucher-up,  who  sets  the  songs  to 
music,  arranges  the  chorus  and  concerted  pieces  and 
fits  them  into  their  right  place,  and  finally  writes  the 
pufi's  and  the  advertisements.  Du  Bruel  was  a  plodder  ; 
at  the  oflSce  he  read  the  newest  books,  extracted  their 
wit,  and  laid  it  by  for  use  in  his  dialogues.  He  was 
liked  by  his  collaborators  on  account  of  his  carefulness  ; 
the  man  with  brains,  sure  of  being  understood,  could 
cross  his  arms  and  feel  that  his  ideas  would  be  well  ren- 
dered. The  clerks  in  the  oflEice  liked  their  companion 
well  enough  to  attend  a  first  performance  of  his  plays 


Bureaucracy,  111 

in  a  body  and  applaud  them,  for  he  really  deserved  the 
title  of  a  good  fellow.  His  hand  went  readily  to  his 
pocket;  ices  and  punch  were  bestowed  without  prod- 
ding, and  he  loaned  fifty  francs  without  asking  them 
back.  He  owned  a  country-house  at  Aulnay,  laid  by 
his  money,  and  had,  besides  the  four  thousand  five 
hundred  francs  of  his  salary  under  government,  twelve 
hundred  francs  pension  from  the  civil  list,  and  eight 
hundred  from  the  three  hundred  thousand  francs  fund 
voted  by  the  Chambers  for  encouragement  of  the  Arts. 
Add  to  these  diverse  emoluments  nine  thousand  francs 
earned  by  his  quarters,  thirds,  and  halves  of  plays  in 
three  different  theatres  and  you  will  readily  understand 
that  such  a  man  must  be  physically  round,  fat,  and 
comfortable,  with  the  face  of  a  worthy  capitalist.  As 
to  morals,  he  was  the  lover  and  the  beloved  of  TuUia 
and  felt  himself  preferred  in  heart  to  the  brilliant  Due 
de  Rhetore,  the  lover  in  chief. 

Dutocq  had  seen  with  great  uneasiness  what  he  called 
the  haison  of  des  Lupeaulx  with  Madame  Rabourdin, 
and  his  silent  wrath  on  the  subject  was  accumulating. 
He  had  too  prying  an  eye  not  to  have  guessed  that 
Rabourdin  was  engaged  in  some  great  work  outside  of 
his  oflBcial  labors,  and  he  was  provoked  to  feel  that  he 
knew  nothing  about  it,  whereas  that  little  Sebastien 
was,  wholly  or  in  part,  in  the  secret.  Dutocq  was  in- 
timate with  Godard,  under-head-clerk  to  Baudoyer,  and 


tii  Bureaucracy. 

the  high  esteem  in  which  Dutocq  held  Bando3'er  was 
the  original  cause  of  his  acquaintance  with  Godard  ;  not 
that  Dutocq  was  sincere  even  in  this ;  but  by  praising 
Baudoyer  and  saying  nothing  of  Rabourdin  he  satisfied 
his  hatred  after  the  fashion  of  little  minds. 

Joseph  Godard,  a  cousin  of  Mitral  on  the  mother's 
side,  made  pretensions  to  the  hand  of  Mademoiselle 
Baudoyer,  not  perceiving  that  her  mother  was  laying 
siege  to  Falleix  as  a  son-in-law.  He  brought  little 
gifts  to  the  young  lady,  artificial  flowers,  bonbons 
on  new-year's  day  and  pretty  boxes  for  her  birthday. 
Twentj^-six  years  of  age,  a  worker  working  without 
purpose,  steady  as  a  girl,  monotonous  and  apathetic, 
holding  caf^s,  cigars,  and  horsemanship  in  detestation, 
going  to  bed  regularly  at  ten  o'clock  and  rising  at 
seven,  gifted  with  some  social  talents,  such  as  playing 
quadrille  music  on  the  flute,  which  first  brought  him 
into  favor  with  the  Saillards  and  the  Baudoj'ers.  He 
was  moreover  a  fifer  in  the  National  Guard,  —  to  escape 
liis  turn  of  sitting  up  all  night  in  a  barrack-room.  Go- 
dard was  devoted  more  especially  to  natural  history.  He 
made  collections  of  shells  and  minerals,  knew  how  to 
stuff  birds,  kept  a  mass  of  curiosities  bought  for  noth- 
ing in  his  bedroom ;  took  possession  of  phials  and 
empty  perfume  bottles  for  his  specimens ;  pinned  but- 
terflies and  beetles  under  glass,  hung  Chinese  parasols 
on  the  walls,  together  with  dried  fishskins.     He  lived 


Bureaucracy,  113 

with  his  sister,  an  artificial-flower  maker,  in  the  rue  de 
Richelieu.  Though  much  admired  by  mammas  this 
model  young  man  was  looked  down  upon  by  his  sister's 
shop-girls,  who  had  tried  to  inveigle  him.  Slim  and 
lean,  of  medium  height,  with  dark  circles  round  his 
eyes,  Joseph  Godard  took  little  care  of  his  person; 
his  clothes  were  ill- cut,  his  trousers  bagged,  he  wore 
white  stockings  at  all  seasons  of  the  year,  a  hat  with  a 
narrow  brim  and  laced  shoes.  He  was  always  com- 
plaining of  his  digestion.  His  principal  vice  was  a 
mania  for  proposing  rural  parties  during  the  summer 
season,  excursions  to  Montmorency,  picnics  on  the 
grass,  and  visits  to  creameries  on  the  boulevard  du 
Mont-Parnasse.  For  the  last  six  months  Dutocq  had 
taken  to  visiting  Mademoiselle  Godard  from  time  to 
time,  with  certain  views  of  his  own,  hoping  to  discover 
in  her  establishment  some  female  treasure. 

Thus  Baudoyer  had  a  pair  of  henchmen  in  Dutocq  and 
Godard.  Monsieur  Saillard,  too  innocent  to  judge 
rightl}'  of  Dutocq,  was  in  the  habit  of  paying  him  fre- 
quent little  visits  at  the  office.  Young  La  Billardiere, 
the  director's  son,  placed  as  supernumerary  with  Bau- 
doyer, made  another  member  of  the  clique.  The  clever 
heads  in  the  offices  laughed  much  at  this  alliance  of  in- 
capables.  Bixiou  nicknamed  Baudoyer,  Godard,  and 
Dutocq  a  "Trinity  without  the  Spirit,"  and  little  La 

Billardiere  the  "Pascal  Lamb." 

8 


114  Bureaucracy. 

"You  are  early  this  morning,"  said  Antoine  to 
Dutocq,  laughing." 

"  So  are  you,  Antoine,"  answered  Dutocq ;  "  you  see, 
the  newspapers  do  come  earlier  than  you  let  us  have 
them  at  the  office." 

"  They  did  to-day,  by  chance,"  replied  Antoine,  not 
disconcerted  ;  "  they  never  come  two  days  together  at 
the  same  hour." 

The  two  nephews  looked  at  each  other  as  if  to  say,  in 
admiration  of  their  uncle,  "  What  cheek  he  has  !  " 

*'  Though  I  make  two  sous  by  all  his  breakfasts," 
muttered  Antoine,  as  he  heard  Monsieur  Dutocq  close 
the  office  door,  "  I  'd  give  them  up  to  get  that  man  out 
of  our  division." 

''  Ah,  Monsieur  Sebastien,  you  are  not  the  first  here 
to-da}^,"  said  Antoine,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  to  the 
supernumerary. 

"  Who  is  here?  "  asked  the  poor  lad,  turning  pale. 

"  Monsieur  Dutocq,"  answered  Laurent. 

Virgin  natures  have,  be3'ond  all  others,  the  inex- 
plicable gift  of  second-sight,  the  reason  of  which  lies 
perhaps  in  the  purity  of  their  nervous  sj'stems,  which 
are,  as  it  were,  brand-new.  Sebastien  had  long  guessed 
Dutocq's  hatred  to  his  revered  Rabourdin.  So  that 
when  Laurent  uttered  his  name  a  dreadful  presentiment 
took  possession  of  the  lad's  mind,  and  crying  out,  "I 
feared  it !  "  he  flew  like  an  arrow  into  the  corridor. 


Bureaucracy,  115 

"  There  is  going  to  be  a  row  in  the  division,"  said 
Antoine,  shaking  his  white  head  as  he  put  on  his  livery. 
"It  is  very  certahi  that  Monsieur  le  baron  is  off  to 
his  account.  Yes,  Madame  Gruget,  the  nurse,  told  me 
he  could  n't  live  through  the  da}'-.  What  a  stir  there  '11 
be  !  oh !  won't  there  !  Go  along,  you  fellows,  and  see 
if  the  stoves  are  drawing  properly.  Heavens  and  earth ! 
our  world  is  coming  down  about  our  ears." 

"That  poor  3'oung  one,"  said  Laurent,  "  had  a  sort 
of  sunstroke  when  he  heard  that  Jesuit  of  a  Dutocq  had 
got  here  before  him." 

"  I  have  told  him  a  dozen  times,  —  for  after  all  one 
ought  to  tell  the  truth  to  an  honest  clerk,  and  what  I 
call  an  honest  clerk  is  one  like  that  little  fellow  who 
gives  us  recta  his  ten  francs  on  new-year's  day,  —  I. 
have  said  to  him  again  and  again  :  The  more  3^ou  work 
the  more  they  'II  make  you  work,  and  they  won't  pro- 
mote you.  He  does  n't  listen  to  me ;  he  tires  himself 
out  staying  here  till  five  o'clock,  an  hour  after  all  the 
others  have  gone.  Folly  !  he  '11  never  get  on  that  way ! 
The  proof  is  that  not  a  word  has  been  said  about  giving 
him  an  appointment,  though  he  has  been  here  two  years. 
It 's  a  shame  !  it  makes  my  blood  boil." 

"  Monsieur  Rabourdin  is  very  fond  of  Monsieur  Se- 
bastien,"  said  Laurent. 

"  But  Monsieur  Rabourdin  is  n't  a  minister,"  retorted 
Antoine  ;  "  it  will  be  a  hot  day  when  that  happens,  and 


116  Bureaucracy. 

the  hens  will  have  teeth ;  he  is  too  —  but  mum  !  When 
I  think  that  I  carry  salaries  to  those  humbugs  who  stay 
awaj"  and  do  as  they  please,  while  that  poor  little  La 
Roche  works  himself  to  death,  I  ask  myself  if  God 
ever  thinks  of  the  civil  service.  And  what  do  they  give 
you,  these  pets  of  Monsieur  le  marechal  and  Monsieur 
le  due?  'Thank  you,  my  dear  Antoine,  thank  you,' 
with  a  gracious  nod !  Pack  of  sluggards  !  go  to  work, 
or  you'll  bring  another  revolution  about  your  ears. 
Didn't  see  such  goings-on  under  Monsieur  Robert 
Lindet.  I  know,  for  I  served  my  apprenticeship  under 
Robert  Lindet.  The  clerks  had  to  work  in  his  day! 
You  ought  to  have  seen  how  they  scratched  paper  here 
till  midnight ;  wh}^,  the  stoves  went  out  and  nobody  no- 
ticed it.  It  was  all  because  the  guillotine  was  there ! 
now-a-days  they  onl}^  mark  'em  when  they  come  in  late  I " 

"Uncle  Antoine,"  said  Gabriel,  "as  3'ou  are  so 
talkative  this  morning,  just  tell  us  what  you  think  a 
clerk  really  ought  to  be." 

"A  government  clerk,"  replied  Antoine,  gravely,  "is 
a  man  who  sits  in  a  government  office  and  writes.  But 
there,  there,  what  am  I  talking  about?  Without  the 
clerks,  where  should  we  be,  I  'd  like  to  know  ?  Go  along 
and  look  after  your  stoves  and  mind  you  never  say 
harm  of  a  government  clerk,  you  fellows.  Gabriel,  the 
stove  in  the  large  office  draws  like  the  devil ;  you  must 
turn  the  damper." 


Bureaucracy.  117 

Antoine  stationed  himself  at  a  corner  of  the  landing 
whence  he  could  see  all  the  officials  as  they  entered  the 
porte-cochere  ;  he  knew  every  one  at  the  ministry,  and 
watched  their  behavior,  observing  narrowly  the  con- 
trasts in  their  dress  and  appearance. 

The  first  to  arrive  after  S^bastien  was  a  clerk  of 
deeds  in  Rabourdin's  office  named  Phellion,  a  respec- 
table family-man.  To  the  influence  of  his  chief  he 
owed  a  half-scholarship  for  each  of  his  two  sons  in  the 
College  Henri  IV. ;  while  his  daughter  was  being  edu- 
cated gratis  at  a  boarding-school  where  his  wife  gave 
music  lessons  and  he  himself  a  course  of  history  and 
one  of  geography  in  the  evenings.  He  was  about  forty- 
five  years  of  age,  sergeant-major  of  his  company  in  the 
National  Guard,  very  compassionate  in  feeling  and 
words,  but  wholly  unable  to  give  away  a  penny.  Proud 
of  his  post,  however,  and  satisfied  with  his  lot,  he  ap- 
plied himself  faithfully  to  serve  the  government,  be- 
lieved he  was  useful  to  his  country,  and  boasted  of  his 
indifference  to  politics,  knowing  none  but  those  of  the 
men  in  power.  Monsieur  Rabourdin  pleased  him  highly 
whenever  he  asked  him  to  stay  half  an  hour  longer  to 
finish  a  piece  of  work.  On  such  occasions  he  would  say, 
when  he  reached  home,  "Public  affairs  detained  me; 
when  a  man  belongs  to  the  government  he  is  no  longer 
master  of  himself."  He  compiled  books  of  questions 
and  answers  on  various  studies  for  the  use  of  j'oung 


118  Bureaucracy, 

ladies  in  boarding-schools.  These  little  "  solid  trea- 
tises," as  he  called  them,  were  sold  at  the  University 
library  under  the  name  of  "  Historical  and  Geographi- 
cal Catechisms."  Feeling  himself  in  duty  bound  to  offer 
a  copy  of  each  volume,  bound  in  red  morocco,  to  Ma- 
dame Rabourdin,  he  always  came  in  full  dress  to  present 
them,  —  breeches  and  silk  stockings,  and  shoes  with 
gold  buckles.  Monsieur  Phellion  received  his  friends 
on  Thursday  evenings,  on  which  occasions  the  company 
played  bouillote^  at  five  sous  a  game,  and  were  regaled 
with  cakes  and  beer.  He  had  never  3'et  dared  to  invite 
Monsieur  Rabourdin  to  honor  him  with  his  presence, 
though  he  would  have  regarded  such  an  event  as  the 
most  distinguished  of  his  life.  He  said  if  he  could 
leave  one  of  his  sons  following  in  the  steps  of  Mon- 
sieur Rabourdin  he  should  die  the  happiest  father  in 
the  world. 

One  of  his  greatest  pleasures  was  to  explore  the  envi- 
rons of  Paris,  which  he  did  with  a  map.  He  knew 
every  inch  of  Arcueil,  Bievre,  Fontenay-aux-Roses,  and 
Aulnay,  so  famous  as  the  resort  of  great  writers,  and 
hoped  in  time  to  know  the  whole  western  side  of  the 
country  around  Paris.  He  intended  to  put  his  eldest 
son  into  a  government  office  and  his  second  into  the 
Ecole  Polytechnique.  He  often  said  to  the  elder, 
**  When  you  have  the  honor  to  be  a  government  clerk  ; " 
though  he  suspected  him  of  a  preference  for  the  exact 


Bureaucracy.  119 

sciences  and  did  his  best  to  repress  it,  mentally  resolv- 
ing to  abandon  the  lad  to  his  own  devices  if  he  per- 
sisted. When  Eabourdin  sent  for  him  to  come  down 
and  receive  instructions  about  some  particular  piece  of 
work,  Phellion  gave  all  his  mind  to  it,  —  listening  to 
every  word  the  chief  said,  as  a  dilettante  listens  to  an 
air  at  the  Opera.  Silent  in  the  office,  with  his  feet  in 
the  air  resting  on  a  wooden  desk,  and  never  moving 
them,  he  studied  his  task  conscientiously.  His  official 
letters  were  written  with  the  utmost  gravity,  and  trans- 
mitted the  commands  of  the  minister  in  solemn  phrases. 
Monsieur  Phellion's  face  was  that  of  a  pensive  ram, 
with  little  color  and  pitted  by  the  small-pox ;  the  lips 
were  thick  and  the  lower  one  pendent ;  the  eyes  light- 
blue,  and  his  figure  above  the  common  height.  Neat  and 
clean  as  a  master  of  history  and  geography  in  a  young 
ladies'  school  ought  to  be,  he  wore  fine  linen,  a  pleated 
shirt-frill,  a  black  cashmere  waistcoat,  left  open  and 
showing  a  pair  of  braces  embroidered  by  his  daughter, 
a  diamond  in  the  bosom  of  his  shirt,  a  black  coat,  and 
blue  trousers.  In  winter  he  added  a  nut-colored  box- 
coat  with  three  capes,  and  carried  a  loaded  stick,  neces- 
sitated, he  said,  by  the  profound  solitude  of  the  quarter 
in  which  he  lived.  He  had  given  up  taking  snufi*,  and 
referred  to  this  reform  as  a  striking  example  of  the 
empire  a  man  could  exercise  over  himself.  Monsieur 
Phellion  came  slowly  up  the  stairs,  for  he  was  afraid  of 


120  Bureaucracy, 

asthma,  having  what  he  called  an  "  adipose   chest." 
He  saluted  Antoine  with  dignity. 

The  next  to  follow  was  a  copying- clerk,  who  pre- 
sented a  strange  contrast  to  the  virtuous  Phellion. 
Vimeux  was  a  young  man  of  twenty-five,  with  a  salary 
of  fifteen  hundred  francs,  well-made  and  graceful,  with 
a  romantic  face,  and  eyes,  hair,  beard,  and  eyebrows 
as  black  as  jet,  fine  teeth,  charming  hands,  and  wear- 
ing a  moustache  so  carefully  trimmed  that  he  seemed 
to  have  made  it  the  business  and  occupation  of  his 
life.  Vimeux  had  such  aptitude  for  work  that  he  de- 
spatched it  much  quicker  than  awy  of  the  other  clerks. 
''  He  has  a  gift,  that  young  man!  "  PhelUon  said  of 
him  when  he  saw  him  cross  his  legs  and  have  nothing 
to  do  for  the  rest  of  the  day,  having  got  through  his 
appointed  task  ;  "  and  see  what  a  little  dandy  he  is  !  " 
Vimeux  breakfasted  on  a  roll  and  a  glass  of  water,  dined 
for  twenty  sous  at  Katcomb's,  and  lodged  in  a  furnished 
room,  for  which  he  paid  twelve  francs  a  month.  His 
happiness,  his  sole  pleasure  in  life,  was  dress.  He 
ruined  himself  in  miraculous  waistcoats,  in  trousers  that 
were  tight,  half-tight,  pleated,  or  embroidered ;  in  su- 
perfine boots,  well-made  coats  which  outlined  his  ele- 
gant figure ;  in  bewitching  collars,  spotless  gloves,  and 
immaculate  hats.  A  ring  with  a  coat  of  arms  adorned 
his  hand,  outside  his  glove,  from  which  dangled  a 
handsome   cane ;    with  these   accessories   he  endeav- 


Bureaucracy,  121 

ored  to  assume  the  air  and  manner  of  a  wealthy 
young  man.  After  the  office  closed  he  appeared  in 
the  great  walk  of  the  Tuileries,  with  a  tooth-pick  in 
his  mouth,  as  though  he  were  a  millionnaire  who  had 
just  dined.  Always  on  the  lookout  for  a  woman,  —  an 
Englishwoman,  a  foreigner  of  some  kind,  or  a  widow,  — 
who  might  fall  in  love  with  him,  he  practised  the  art 
of  twirling  his  cane  and  of  flinging  the  sort  of  glance 
which  Bixiou  told  him  was  American.  He  smiled  to 
show  his  fine  teeth ;  he  wore  no  socks  under  his 
boots,  but  he  had  his  hair  curled  every  day.  Vimeux 
was  prepared,  in  accordance  with  fixed  principles,  to 
marry  a  hunch-back  with  six  thousand  a  year,  or  a 
woman  of  forty-five  at  eight  thousand,  or  an  English- 
woman for  half  that  sum.  Phellion,  who  delighted  in 
his  neat  hand-writing,  and  was  full  of  compassion  for 
the  fellow,  read  him  lectures  on  the  duty  of  giving 
lessons  in  penmanship,  —  an  honorable  career,  he  said, 
which  would  ameliorate  existence  and  even  render  it 
agreeable ;  he  promised  him  a  situation  in  a  young 
ladies'  boarding-school.  But  Vimeux's  head  was  so 
full  of  his  own  idea  that  no  human  being  could  pre- 
vent him  from  having  faith  in  his  star.  He  continued 
to  lay  himself  out,  Hke  a  salmon  at  a  fishmonger  s,  in 
spite  of  his  empty  stomach  and  the  fact  that  he  had 
fruitlessly  exhibited  his  enormous  moustachios  and  his 
fine  clothes  for  over  three  years.     As  he  owed  Antoine 


122  Bureaucracy. 

more  than  thirty  francs  for  his  breakfasts,  he  lowered 
his  eyes  ever}'  time  he  passed  him ;  and  yet  he 
never  failed  at  midday  to  ask  the  man  to  buy  him 
a  roll. 

After  trying  to  get  a  few  reasonable  ideas  into  this 
foolish  head,  Rabourdin  had  finally  given  up  the  at- 
tempt as  hopeless.  Adolphe  (his  name  was  Adolphe) 
had  lately  economized  on  dinners  and  lived  entirely 
on  bread  and  water,  to  buy  a  pair  of  spurs  and  a 
riding-whip.  Jokes  at  the  expense  of  this  starving 
Amadis  were  made  only  in  the  spirit  of  mischievous 
fun  which  creates  vaudevilles,  for  he  was  really  a 
kind-hearted  fellow  and  a  good  comrade,  who  harmed 
no  one  but  himself.  A  standing  joke  in  the  two  bu- 
reaus was  the  question  whether  he  wore  corsets,  and 
bets  depended  on  it.  Vimeux  was  originally  ap- 
pointed to  Baudoyer's  bureau,  but  he  manoeuvred  to 
get  himself  transferred  to  Rabourdin's,  on  account  of 
Baudoyer's  extreme  severity  in  relation  to  what  were 
called  "the  English,"  —  a  name  given  by  the  govern- 
ment clerks  to  their  creditors.  "English  da}'"  means 
the  day  on  which  the  government  offices  are  thrown 
open  to  the  public.  Certain  then  of  finding  their  delin- 
quent debtors,  the  creditors  swarm  in  and  torment 
them,  asking  when  they  intend  to  pa}',  and  threaten- 
ing to  attach  their  salaries.  The  implacable  Bau- 
doyer  compelled  the  clerks  to  remain  at  their  desks 


Bureaucracy.  123 

and  endure  this  torture.  "It  was  their  place  not  to 
make  debts,"  he  said ;  and  he  considered  his  severity 
as  a  duty  which  he  owed  to  the  public  weal.  Ra- 
bourdin,  on  the  contrary,  protected  the  clerks  against 
their  creditors,  and  turned  the  latter  away,  saying 
that  the  government  bureaus  were  open  for  public 
business,  not  private.  Much  ridicule  pursued  Vimeux 
in  both  bureaus  when  the  clank  of  his  spurs  re- 
sounded in  the  corridors  and  on  the  staircases.  The 
wag  of  the  ministry,  Bixiou,  sent  round  a  paper,  headed 
by  a  caricature  of  his  victim  on  a  pasteboard  horse, 
asking  for  subscriptions  to  bu}'  him  a  live  charger. 
Monsieur  Baudoyer  was  down  for  a  bale  of  hay 
taken  from  his  own  forage  allowance,  and  each  of  the 
clerks  wrote  his  little  epigram  ;  Vimeux  himself,  good- 
natured  fellow  that  he  was,  subscribed  under  the 
name  of  "  Miss  Fairfax." 

Handsome  clerks  of  the  Vimeux  style  have  their 
salaries  on  which  to  live,  and  their  good  looks  by 
which  to  make  their  fortune.  Devoted  to  masked 
balls  during  the  carnival,  they  seek  their  luck  there, 
though  it  often  escapes  them.  Many  end  the  weary 
round  by  marrying  milliners,  or  old  women,  —  some- 
times, however,  young  ones  who  are  charmed  with 
their  handsome  persons,  and  with  whom  they  set  up 
a  romance  illustrated  with  stupid  love  letters,  which, 
nevertheless,  seem  to  answer  their  purpose. 


124  Bureaucracy. 

Bixiou  (pronounce  it  Bisiou)  was  a  draughtsman, 
who  ridiculed  Dutocq  as  readily  as  he  did  Rabourdin, 
whom  he  nicknamed  "  the  virtuous  woman."  With- 
out doubt  the  cleverest  man  in  the  division  or  even 
at  the  ministry  (but  clever  after  the  fashion  of  a 
monkey,  without  aim  or  sequence),  Bixiou  was  so  es- 
sentially useful  to  Baudo^'er  and  Godard  that  they 
upheld  and  protected  him  in  spite  of  his  misconduct ; 
for  he  did  their  work  when  they  were  incapable  of  doing 
it  for  themselves.  Bixiou  wanted  either  Godard's  or 
du  Bruel's  place  as  under-head-clerk,  but  his  conduct 
interfered  with  his  promotion.  Sometimes  he  sneered 
at  the  public  service  ;  this  was  usually  after  he  had  made 
some  happy  hit,  such  as  the  publication  of  portraits 
in  the  famous  Fualdes  case  (for  which  he  drew  faces 
hap-hazard),  or  his  sketch  of  the  debate  on  the  Cas- 
taing  affair.  At  other  times,  when  possessed  with  a 
desire  to  get  on,  he  really  applied  himself  to  work, 
though  he  would  soon  leave  off  to  write  a  vaudeville, 
which  was  never  finished.  A  thorough  egoist,  a 
spendthrift  and  a  miser  in  one,  —  that  is  to  sa}', 
spending  his  money  solely  on  himself,  —  sharp,  ag- 
gressive, and  indiscreet,  he  did  mischief  for  mischiefs 
sake ;  above  all,  he  attacked  the  weak,  respected  noth- 
ing and  believed  in  nothing,  neither  in  France,  nor  in 
God,  nor  in  art,  nor  in  the  Greeks,  nor  in  the  Turks, 
nor  in  the  monarchy,  —  insulting  and  disparaging  every- 


Bureaucracy,  125 

thing  that  he  could  not  comprehend.  He  was  the 
first  to  paint  a  black  cap  on  Charles  X.'s  head  on  the 
five-franc  coins.  He  mimicked  Dr.  Gall  when  lec- 
turing, till  he  made  the  most  starched  of  diplomatists 
burst  their  buttons.  Famous  for  his  practical  jokes, 
he  varied  them  with  such  elaborate  care  that  he  always 
obtained  a  victim.  His  great  secret  in  this  was  the 
power  of  guessing  the  inmost  wishes  of  others  ;  he  knew 
the  way  to  many  a  castle  in  the  air,  to  the  dreams  about 
which  a  man  may  be  fooled  because  he  wants  to  be ; 
and  he  made  such  men  sit  to  him  for  hours. 

Thus  it  happened  that  this  close  observer,  who  could 
display  unrivalled  tact  in  developing  a  joke  or  driv- 
ing home  a  sarcasm,  was  unable  to  use  the  same  power 
to  make  men  further  his  fortunes  and  promote  him. 
The  person  he  most  liked  to  annoy  was  j^oung  La 
Billardiere,  his  nightmare,  his  detestation,  whom  he  was 
nevertheless  constantly  wheedling  so  as  the  better  to 
torment  him  on  his  weakest  side.     He  wrote  him  love 

letters  signed  "Comtesse  de  M "  or  "  Marquise  de 

B "  ;  took  him  to  the  Opera  on  gala  days  and  pre- 
sented him  to  some  grisette  under  the  clock,  after  call- 
ing everybody's  attention  to  the  young  fool.  He  allied 
himself  with  Dutocq  (whom  he  regarded  as  a  solemn 
juggler)  in  his  hatred  to  Rabourdin  and  his  praise  of 
Baudoyer,  and  did  his  best  to  support  him.  Jean- Jacques 
Bixiou  was  the  grandson  of  a  Parisian  grocer.     His 


126  Bureaucracy » 

father,  who  died  a  colonel,  left  him  to  the  care  of  his 
grandmother,  who  married  her  head-clerk,  named  Des- 
coings,  after  the  death  of  her  first  husband,  and  died 
in  1822.  Finding  himself  without  prospects  on  leaving 
college,  he  attempted  painting,  but  in  spite  of  his  in- 
timacy with  Joseph  Bridau,  his  life-long  friend,  he 
abandoned  art  to  take  up  caricature,  vignette  design- 
ing, and  drawing  for  books,  which  twenty  years  later 
went  by  the  name  of  "  illustration."  The  influence  of 
the  Dues  de  Maufrigneuse  and  de  Rbetore,  whom  he 
knew  in  the  society  of  actresses,  procured  him  his  em- 
ploj'ment  under  government  in  1819.^  On  good  terms 
with  des  Lupeaulx,  with  whom  in  society  he  stood  on 
an  equality,  and  intimate  with  du  Bruel,  he  was  a  liv- 
ing proof  of  Rabourdin's  theory  as  to  the  steady  de- 
terioration of  the  administrative  hierarchy  in  Paris 
through  the  personal  importance  which  a  government 
official  may  acquire  outside  of  a  government  office. 
Short  in  stature  but  well-formed,  with  a  delicate  face 
remarkable  for  its  vague  likeness  to  Napoleon's,  thin 
lips,  a  straight  chin,  chestnut  whiskers,  twentj'-seven 
years  old,  fair-skinned,  with  a  piercing  voice  and 
sparkling  eye,  —  such  was  Bixiou ;  a  man,  all  sense 
and  all  wit,  who  abandoned  himself  to  a  mad  pur- 
suit of  pleasure  of  every  description,  which  threw 
him  into  a  constant  round  of  dissipation.  Hunter  of 
grisettes,  smoker,  jester,  diner-out  and  frequenter  of 


Bureaucracy.  127 

supper-parties,  always  tuned  to  the  highest  pitch, 
shining  equall}^  in  the  greenroom  and  at  the  balls  given 
among  the  grisettes  of  the  Allee  des  Veuves,  he  was 
just  as  surprising!}-  entertaining  at  table  as  at  a  picnic, 
as  gay  and  lively  at  midnight  on  the  streets  as  in  the 
morning  when  he  jumped  out  of  bed,  and  yet  at  heart 
gloomy  and  melanchol}^,  like  most  of  the  great  comic 
players. 

Launched  into  the  world  of  actors  and  actresses, 
writers,  artists,  and  certain  women  of  uncertain  means, 
he  lived  well,  went  to  the  theatres  without  paying, 
gambled  at  Frascati,  and  often  won.  Artist  by  na- 
ture and  really  profound,  though  by  flashes  only,  he 
swayed  to  and  fro  in  life  like  a  swing,  without  think- 
ing or  caring  of  a  time  when  the  cord  would  break. 
The  liveliness  of  his  wit  and  the  prodigal  flow  of  his 
ideas  made  him  acceptable  to  all  persons  who  took 
pleasure  in  the  lights  of  intellect;  but  none  of  his 
friends  liked  him.  Incapable  of  checking  a  witty  say- 
ing, he  would  scarify  his  two  neighbors  before  a  dinner 
was  half  over.  In  spite  of  his  skin-deep  gayety,  a 
secret  dissatisfaction  with  his  social  position  could  be 
detected  in  his  speech  ;  he  aspired  to  something  better, 
but  the  fatal  demon  hiding  in  his  wit  hindered  him 
from  acquiring  the  gravity  which  imposes  on  fools. 
lie  lived  on  the  second  floor  of  a  house  in  the  rue  de 
Ponthieu,  where  he  had  three  rooms  delivered  over  to 


128  Bureaucracy. 

the  untidiness  of  a  bachelor's  estabHshment,  in  fact,  a 
regular  bivouac.  He  often  talked  of  leaving  France  and 
seeking  his  fortune  in  America.  No  wizard  could  fore- 
tell the  future  of  this  j^oung  man  in  whom  all  talents 
were  incomplete ;  who  was  incapable  of  perseverance, 
intoxicated  with  pleasure,  and  who  acted  on  the  belief 
that  the  world  ended  on  the  morrow. 

In  the  matter  of  dress  Bixiou  had  the  merit  of  never 
being  ridiculous ;  he  was  perhaps  the  onl}^  official  of 
the  ministry  whose  dress  did  not  lead  outsiders  to  sa}' , 
"  That  man  is  a  government  clerk  !  "  He  wore  elegant 
boots  with  black  trousers  strapped  under  them,  a  fancy 
waistcoat,  a  becoming  blue  coat,  collars  that  were  the 
never-ending  gift  of  grisettes,  one  of  Bandoni's  hats, 
and  a  pair  of  dark-colored  kid  gloves.  His  walk  and 
bearing,  cavalier  and  simple  both,  were  not  without 
grace.  He  knew  all  this,  and  when  des  Lupeaulx 
summoned  him  for  a  piece  of  impertinence  said  and 
done  about  Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere  and  threatened 
him  with  dismissal,  Bixiou  replied,  "  You  will  take  me 
back  because  my  clothes  do  credit  to  the  ministry ; " 
and  des  Lupeaulx,  unable  to  keep  from  laughing,  let 
the  matter  pass.  The  most  harmless  of  Bixiou's  jokes 
perpetrated  among  the  clerks  was  the  one  he  played 
off  upon  Godard,  presenting  him  with  a  butterfly  just 
brought  from  China,  which  the  worth}^  man  keeps  in  his 
collection  and  exhibits  to  this  day,  blissfully  uncon- 


Bureaucracy,  129 

scious  that  it  is  only  painted  paper.  Bixiou  had  the 
patience  to  work  up  the  little  masterpiece  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  hoaxing  his  superior. 

The  devil   always    puts    a    martyr   near  a  Bixiou. 
Baudoyer's  bureau  held  the  martyr,  a  poor   copying- 
clerk  twenty-two  years  of  age,  with  a  salary  of  fifteen 
hundred  francs,  named  Auguste-Jean-Fran9ois  Minard. 
Minard  had  married  for  love  the  daughter  of  a  porter, 
an   artificial-flower  maker  employed  by  Mademoiselle 
Godard.    Zelie  Lorrain,  a  pupil,  in  the  first  place,  of  the 
Conservatoire,  then  by  turns  a  danseuse,  a  singer,  and 
an  actress,  had  thought  of  doing  as  so  many  of  the  work- 
ing-women do ;  but  the  fear  of  consequences  kept  her 
from  vice.     She  was  floating  undecidedly  along,  when 
Minard  appeared  upon  the  scene  with  a  definite  pro- 
posal of  marriage.     Zehe  earned  five  hundred  francs  a 
year,  Minard  had  fifteen  hundred.     Believing  that  they 
could  live  on  two  thousand,  they  married  without  settle- 
ments, and  started  with  the   utmost  economy.     They 
went  to  live,  like  turtle-doves,   near  the  barriere   de 
Courcelles,  in  a  little  apartment  at  three  hundred  francs 
a  year,  with  white  cotton  curtains  to  the  windows,  a 
Scotch  paper  costing  fifteen  sous  a  roll  on  the  walls, 
brick  floors  well  polished,  walnut  furniture  in  the  parlor, 
and  a  tiny  kitchen  that  was  very  clean.     Zelie  nursed 
her  children  herself  when  they  came,  cooked,  made  her 
flowers,  and  kept  the  house.    There  was  something  very 

9 


130  Bureaucracy. 

touching  in  this  happy  and  laborious  mediocritj'.  Feel- 
ing that  Minard  truly  loved  her,  Zelie  loved  him.  Love 
begets  love,  — it  is  the  ahyssus  ahyssum  of  the  Bible. 
The  poor  man  left  his  bed  in  the  morning  before  his 
wife  was  up,  that  he  might  fetch  provisions.  He  car- 
ried the  flowers  she  had  finished,  on  his  way  to  the 
bureau,  and  bought  her  materials  on  his  way  back ; 
then,  while  waiting  for  dinner,  he  stamped  out  her 
leaves,  trimmed  the  twigs,  or  rubbed  her  colors.  Small, 
slim,  and  wiry,  with  crisp  red  hair,  eyes  of  a  light  yel- 
low, a  skin  of  dazzling  fairness,  though  blotched  with 
red,  the  man  had  a  sturdy  courage  that  made  no  show. 
He  knew  the  science  of  writing  quite  as  well  as  Vimeux. 
At  the  office  he  kept  in  the  background,  doing  his  al- 
loted  task  with  the  collected  air  of  a  man  who  thinks 
and  suffers.  His  white  eyelashes  and  lack  of  eyebrows 
induced  the  relentless  Bixiou  to  name  him  "the  white 
rabbit."  Minard  —  the  Rabourdin  of  a  lower  sphere  — 
was  filled  with  the  desire  of  placing  his  Zehe  in  better 
circumstances,  and  his  mind  searched  the  ocean  of  the 
wants  of  luxur}^  in  hopes  of  finding  an  idea,  of  making 
some  discovery  or  some  improvement  which  would 
bring  him  a  rapid  fortune.  His  apparent  dulness  was 
really  caused  by  the  continual  tension  of  his  mind  ;  he 
went  over  the  history  of  Cephalic  Oils  and  the  Paste  of 
Sultans,  lucifer  matches  and  portable  gas,  jointed  sock- 
ets for  hydrostatic  lamps,  —  in  short,  all  the  infinitely 


Bureaucracy,  131 

little  inventions  of  material  civilization  which  pay  so 
well.  He  bore  Bixiou's  jests  as  a  busy  man  bears  the 
buzzing  of  an  insect ;  be  was  not  even  annoyed  by  them. 
In  spite  of  his  cleverness,  Bixiou  never  perceived  the 
profound  contempt  which  Minard  felt  for  him.  Minard 
never  dreamed  of  quarrelling,  however,  —  regarding 
it  as  a  loss  of  time.  After  a  while  his  composure 
tired  out  his  tormentor.  He  always  breakfasted  with 
his  wife,  and  ate  nothing  at  the  office.  Once  a  month 
he  took  Zelie  to  the  theatre,  with  tickets  bestowed  by 
du  Bruel  or  Bixiou ;  for  Bixiou  was  capable  of  any- 
thing, even  of  doing  a  kindness.  Monsieur  and  Madame 
Minard  paid  their  visits  in  person  on  New- Year's  day. 
Those  who  saw  them  often  asked  how  it  was  that  a 
woman  could  keep  her  husband  in  good  clothes,  wear 
a  Leghorn  bonnet  with  flowers,  embroidered  muslin 
dresses,  silk  mantles,  prunella  boots,  handsome  fichus, 
a  Chinese  parasol,  and  drive  home  in  a  hackney-coach, 
and  yet  be  virtuous  ;  while  Madame  Colleville  and  other 
ladies  of  her  kind  could  scarcely  make  both  ends  meet, 
though  they  had  double  Madame  Minard's  means. 

In  the  two  bureaus  were  two  clerks  so  devoted  to 
each  other  that  their  friendship  became  the  butt  of  all 
the  rest.  He  of  the  bureau  Baudoj^er,  named  Colleville, 
was  chief-clerk,  and  would  have  been  head  of  the  bureau 
long  before  if  the  Restoration  had  never  happened.  His 
wife  was  as  clever  in  her  way  as  Madame  Rabourdin  in 


132  Bureaucracy, 

hers.  Colleville,  who  was  son  of  a  first  violin  at  the 
opera,  fell  in  love  with  the  daughter  of  a  celebrated 
danseuse.  Flavie  Minoret,  one  of  those  capable  and 
charming  Parisian  women  who  know  how  to  make  their 
husbands  happy  and  yet  preserve  their  own  libertj', 
made  the  Colleville  home  a  rendezv^ous  for  all  our  best 
artists  and  orators.  Colleville's  humble  position  under 
government  was  forgotten  there.  Flavie's  conduct  gave 
such  food  for  gossip,  however,  that  Madame  Rabourdin 
had  declined  all  her  invitations.  The  friend  in  Rabour- 
din's  bureau  to  whom  Colleville  was  so  attached  was 
named  Thuillier.  All  who  knew  one  knew  the  other. 
Thuillier,  called  "the  handsome  Thuillier,"  an  ex- 
Lothario,  led  as  idle  a  life  as  Colleville  led  a  busy  one. 
Colleville,  government  official  in  the  mornings  and  first 
clarionet  at  the  Opera-Comique  at  night,  worked  hard 
to  maintain  his  family,  though  he  was  not  without  influ- 
ential friends.  He  was  looked  upon  as  a  very  shrewd 
man,  —  all  the  more,  perhaps,  because  he  hid  his  ambi- 
tions under  a  show  of  indifference.  Apparently  content 
with  his  lot  and  liking  work,  he  found  every  one,  even 
the  chiefs,  ready  to  protect  his  brave  career.  During 
the  last  few  weeks  Madame  Colleville  had  made  an  evi- 
dent change  in  the  household,  and  seemed  to  be  taking 
to  piety.  This  gave  rise  to  a  vague  report  in  the  bu- 
reaus that  she  thought  of  securing  some  more  powerful 
influence  than  that  of  Francois  Keller,  the  famous  orator, 


Bureaucracy.  133 

who  had  been  one  of  her  chief  adorers,  but  who,  so  far, 
had  failed  to  obtain  a  better  place  for  her  husband. 
Flavie  had,  about  this  time  —  and  it  was  one  of  her 
mistakes  —  turned  for  help  to  des  Lupeaulx. 

CoUeville  had  a  passion  for  reading  the  horoscopes 
of  famous  men  in  the  anagram  of  their  names.  He 
passed  whole  months  in  decomposing  and  recomposing 
words  and  fitting  them  to  new  meanings.  Un  Corse 
laflnira"  found  within  the  words  ^'  Revolution  Fran- 
gaise;"  Eh^  c'est  large  nez^^  in  "  Charles  Genest^'"  an 
abbe  at  the  court  of  Louis  XIV.,  whose  huge  nose  is 
recorded  by  Saint-Simon  as  the  delight  of  the  Due  de 
Bourgogne  (the  exigencies  of  this  last  anagram  required 
the  substitution  of  a  2  for  an  s),  —  were  a  never-ending 
marvel  to  CoUeville.  Raising  the  anagram  to  the  height 
of  a  science,  he  declared  that  the  destiny  of  ever}"  man 
was  written  in  the  words  or  phrase  given  by  the  trans- 
position of  the  letters  of  his  names  and  titles ;  and  his 
patriotism  struggled  hard  to  suppress  the  fact  —  signal 
evidence  for  his  theory  —  that  in  Horatio  Nelson,  honor 
est  a  JVilo.  Ever  since  the  accession  of  Charles  X.  he 
had  bestowed  much  thought  on  the  king's  anagram. 
Thuillier,  who  was  fond  of  making  puns,  declared  that 
an  anagram  was  nothing  more  than  a  pun  on  letters. 
The  sight  of  CoUeville,  a  man  of  real  feeling,  bound 
almost  indissolubly  to  Thuillier,  the  model  of  an  egoist, 
presented  a  difficult  problem  to   the   mind  of  an  ob- 


134  Bureaucracy, 

server.  The  clerks  in  the  offices  explained  it  by  saying, 
"  Thuillier  is  rich,  and  the  CoUeville  household  costly." 
This  friendship,  however,  now  consolidated  by  time,  was 
based  on  feelings  and  on  facts  which  naturally  explained 
it ;  an  account  of  which  may  be  found  elsewhere  (see 
*'  Les  Petits  Bourgeois").  We  may  remark  in  passing 
that  though  Madame  CoUeville  was  well  known  in  the 
bureaus,  the  existence  of  Madame  Thuillier  was  almost 
unknown  there.  CoUeville,  an  active  man,  burdened 
with  a  family  of  children,  w^as  fat,  round,  and  jolly, 
whereas  Thuillier  "the  beau  of  the  Empire"  without 
apparent  anxieties  and  always  at  leisure,  was  slender 
and  thin,  with  a  livid  face  and  a  melancholy  air.  "  We 
never  know,"  said  Kabourdin,  speaking  of  the  two  men, 
*' whether  our  friendships  are  born  of  likeness  or  of 
contrast." 

Unlike  these  Siamese  twins,  two  other  clerks,  Cha- 
zelle  and  Paulmier,  were  forever  squabbling.  One 
smoked,  the  other  took  snuflf,  and  the  merits  of  their 
respective  use  of  tobacco  were  the  origin  of  ceaseless 
disputes.  Chazelle's  home,  which  was  tyrannized  over 
by  a  wife,  furnished  a  subject  of  endless  ridicule  to 
Paulmier;  whereas  Paulmier,  a  bachelor,  often  half- 
starved  like  Vimeux,  with  ragged  clothes  and  half-con- 
cealed penury  was  a  fruitful  source  of  ridicule  to  Cha- 
zelie.  Both  were  beginning  to  show  a  protuberant 
stomach ;  Chazelle's,  which  was  round  and  projecting, 


Bureaucracy.  135 

had  the  impertinence,  so  Bixiou  said,  to  enter  the  room 
first ;  Pauhiiier's  corporation  spread  to  right  and  left. 
A  favorite  amusement  with  Bixiou  was  to  measure  them 
quarterl3\  The  two  clerks,  hy  dint  of  quarrelling  over 
the  details  of  their  lives,  and  washing  much  of  their 
dirty  linen  at  the  office,  had  obtained  the  disrepute 
which  they  merited.  "  Do  you  take  me  for  a  Chazelle  ?" 
was  a  frequent  saying  that  served  to  end  many  an  an- 
noying discussion. 

Monsieur  Poiret  junior,  called  "junior"  to  distinguish 
him  from  his  brother  Monsieur  Poiret  senior  (now  living 
in  the  Maison  Vauquer,  where  Poiret  junior  sometimes 
dined,  intending  to  end  his  days  in  the  same  retreat), 
had  spent  thirty  years  in  the  Civil  Service.  Nature 
herself  is  not  so  fixed  and  unvarying  in  her  evolutions  as 
was  Poiret  junior  in  all  the  acts  of  his  daily  life  ;  he  al- 
wa3'S  laid  his  things  in  precisely  the  same  place,  put  his 
pen  in  the  same  rack,  sat  down  in  his  seat  at  the  same 
hour,  warmed  himself  at  the  stove  at  the  same  moment 
of  the  day.  His  sole  vanity  consisted  in  wearing  an 
infallible  watch,  timed  daily  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville  as  he 
passed  it  on  his  way  to  the  office.  From  six  to  eight 
o'clock  in  the  morning  he  kept  the  books  of  a  large 
shop  in  the  rue  Saint-Antoine,  and  from  six  to  eight 
o'clock  in  the  evening  those  of  the  Maison  Camusot,  in 
the  rue  des  Bourdonnais.  He  thus  earned  three  thou- 
sand francs  a  3ear,  counting  his  salary  from  the  govern- 


186  Bureaucracy. 

ment.  In  a  few  months  his  term  of  service  would  be 
up,  when  he  would  retire  on  a  pension ;  he  therefore 
showed  the  utmost  indifference  to  the  political  intrigues 
of  the  bureaus.  Like  his  elder  brother,  to  whom  retire- 
ment from  active  service  had  proved  a  fatal  blow,  he 
would  probably  grow  an  old  man  when  he  could  no 
longer  come  from  his  home  to  the  ministry,  sit  in 
the  same  chair  and  copy  a  certain  number  of  pages. 
Poiret's  eyes  were  dim,  his  glance  weak  and  lifeless, 
his  skin  discolored  and  wrinkled,  gray  in  tone  and 
speckled  with  blueish  dots ;  his  nose  flat,  his  lips  drawn 
inward  to  the  mouth,  where  a  few  defective  teeth  still 
lingered.  His  gray  hair,  flattened  to  the  head  by  the 
pressure  of  his  hat,  gave  him  the  look  of  an  ecclesi- 
astic, —  a  resemblance  he  would  scarcely  have  liked,  for 
he  hated  priests  and  clergy,  though  he  could  give  no 
reasons  for  his  anti- religious  views.  This  antipathy, 
however,  did  not  prevent  him  from  being  extremely 
attached  to  whatever  administration  happened  to  be  in 
power.  He  never  buttoned  his  old  green  coat,  even  on 
the  coldest  days,  and  he  always  wore  shoes  with  ties, 
and  black  trousers. 

No  human  hfe  was  ever  lived  so  thoroughly  by  rule. 
Poiret  kept  all  his  receipted  bills,  even  the  most  trifling, 
and  all  his  account-books,  wrapped  in  old  shirts  and  put 
away  according  to  their  respective  years  from  the  time 
of  his  entrance  at  the  ministr3\     Rough  copies  of  his 


Bureaucracy,  137 

letters  were  dated  and  put  away  in  a  box,  ticketed 
''My  Correspondence."  He  dined  at  the  same  restau- 
rant (the  Sucking  Calf  in  the  place  du  Chatelet) ,  and 
sat  in  the  same  place,  which  the  waiters  kept  for  him. 
He  never  gave  five  minutes  more  time  to  the  shop  in 
the  rue  Saint  Antoine  than  justly  belonged  to  it,  and  at 
half-past  eight  precisely  he  reached  the  Cafe  David, 
where  he  breakfasted  and  remained  till  eleven.  There 
he  listened  to  poUtical  discussions,  his  arms  crossed  on 
his  cane,  his  chin  in  his  right  hand,  never  saying  a 
word.  The  dame  du  comptoir^  the  only  woman  to 
whom  he  ever  spoke  with  pleasure,  was  the  sole  confi- 
dant of  the  little  events  of  his  life,  for  his  seat  was 
close  to  her  counter.  He  played  dominoes,  the  only 
game  he  was  capable  of  understanding.  When  his 
partners  did  not  happen  to  be  present,  he  usuall}^  went 
to  sleep  with  his  back  against  the  wainscot,  holding  a 
newspaper  in  his  hand,  the  wooden  file  resting  on  the 
marble  of  his  table.  He  was  interested  in  the  buildings 
going  up  in  Paris,  and  spent  his  Sundays  in  walking 
about  to  examine  them.  He  was  often  heard  to  say, 
"I  saw  the  Louvre  emerge  from  its  rubbish;  I  saw 
the  birth  of  the  place  du  Chatelet,  the  quai  aux  Fleurs 
and  the  Markets."  He  and  his  brother,  both  born  at 
Troyes,  were  sent  in  youth  to  serve  their  apprentice- 
ship in  a  government  office.  Their  mother  made  her- 
self notorious  by  misconduct,  and  the  two  brothers  had 


138  Bureaucracy. 

the  grief  of  hearing  of  her  death  in  the  hospital  at 
Troj-es,  although  they  had  frequently  sent  monej^  for 
her  support.  This  event  led  them  both  not  only  to 
abjure  marriage,  but  to  feel  a  horror  of  children  ;  ill  at 
ease  with  them,  they  feared  them  as  others  fear  mad- 
men, and  watched  them  with  haggard  eyes. 

Since  the  da}^  when  he  first  came  to  Paris  Poiret 
junior  had  never  gone  outside  the  city.  He  began 
at  that  time  to  keep  a  journal  of  his  life,  in  which  he 
noted  down  all  the  striking  events  of  his  day.  Du 
Bruel  told  him  that  Lord  Byron  did  the  same  thing. 
This  likeness  filled  Poiret  junior  with  delight,  and 
led  him  to  buy  the  works  of  Lord  Bj-ron,  translated 
by  Chastopalli,  of  which  he  did  not  understand  a 
word.  At  the  oflSce  he  w^as  often  seen  in  a  melan- 
choly attitude,  as  though  absorbed  in  thought,  when 
in  fact  he  was  thinking  of  nothing  at  all.  He  did 
not  know  a  single  person  in  the  house  where  he  lived, 
and  always  carried  the  keys  of  his  apartment  about 
with  him.  On  New- Year's  day  he  went  round  and 
left  his  own  cards  on  all  the  clerks  of  the  division. 
Bixiou  took  it  into  his  head  on  one  of  the  hottest  of 
dog-days  to  put  a  layer  of  lard  under  the  lining  of 
a  certain  old  hat  which  Poiret  junior  (he  was,  by 
the  bj^e,  fift3^-two  years  old)  had  worn  for  the  last 
nine  years.  Bixiou,  who  had  never  seen  any  other 
hat  on  Poire t's  head,  dreamed  of  it  and   declared  he 


Bureaucracy.  139 

tasted  it  in  his  food ;  he  therefore  resolved,  in  the 
interests  of  his  digestion,  to  relieve  the  bureau  of  the 
sight  of  that  amorphous  old  hat.  Poiret  junior  left 
the  office  regularl}'  at  four  o'clock.  As  he  walked 
along,  the  sun's  rays  reflected  from  the  pavements 
and  walls  produced  a  tropical  heat ;  he  felt  that  his 
head  was  inundated,  —  he,  who  never  perspired  !  Feel- 
ing that  he  was  ill,  or  on  the  point  of  being  so,  in- 
stead of  going  as  usual  to  the  Sucking  Calf  he  went 
home,  drew  out  from  his  desk  the  journal  of  his  life, 
and  recorded  the  fact  in  the  following  manner :  — 

*'  To-day,  July  3,  1823,  overtaken  by  extraordinary  per- 
spiration, a  sign,  perhaps,  of  the  sweating-sickness,  a  malady 
which  prevails  in  Champagne.  I  am  about  to  consult  Doc- 
tor Haudry.  The  disease  first  appeared  as  I  reached  the 
highest  part  of  the  quai  des  Ecoles." 

Suddenly,  having  taken  off  his  hat,  he  became  aware 
that  the  mysterious  sweat  had  some  cause  independent 
of  his  own  person.  He  wiped  his  face,  examined  the 
hat,  and  could  find  nothing,  for  he  did  not  venture 
to  take  out  the  lining.  All  this  he  noted  in  his 
journal :  — 

*'  Carried  my  hat  to  the  Sieur  Tournan,  hat-maker  in  the 
rue  Saint-Martin,  for  the  reason  that  I  suspect  some  un- 
known cause  for  this  perspiration,  which,  in  that  case,  might 
not  be  perspiration,  but,  possibly,  the  effect  of  something 
lately  added,  or  formerly  done,  to  my  "hat." 


140  Bureaucracy, 

Monsieur  Tournan  at  once  informed  his  customer 
of  the  presence  of  a  greasy  substance,  obtained  by 
the  trying-out  of  the  fat  of  a  pig  or  a  sow.  The  next 
day  Poiret  appeared  at  the  office  with  another  hat, 
lent  b}^  Monsieur  Tournan  while  a  new  one  was  mak- 
ing ;  but  he  did  not  sleep  that  night  until  he  had 
added  the  following  sentence  to  the  preceding  entries 
in  his  journal:  "It  is  asserted  that  my  hat  contained 
lard,  the  fat  of  a  pig." 

This  inexplicable  fact  occupied  the  intellect  of  Poiret 
junior  for  the  space  of  two  weeks ;  and  he  never  knew 
how  the  phenomenon  was  produced.  The  clerks  told 
him  tales  of  showers  of  frogs,  and  other  dog-day 
wonders,  also  the  startling  fact  that  an  imprint  of 
the  head  of  Napoleon  had  been  found  in  the  root  of 
a  young  elm,  with  other  eccentricities  of  natural  his- 
tor}^  Vimeux  informed  him  that  one  da}^  his  hat  — 
his,  Vimeux's  —  had  stained  his  forehead  black,  and 
that  hat-makers  were  in  the  habit  of  using  drugs. 
After  that  Poiret  paid  many  visits  to  Monsieur  Tour- 
nan to  inquire  into  his  methods  of  manufacture. 

In  the  Rabourdin  bureau  was  a  clerk  who  pla3^ed 
the  man  of  courage  and  audacity,  professed  the 
opinions  of  the  Left  centre,  and  rebelled  against  the 
tyrannies  of  Baudoyer  as  exercised  upon  what  he 
called  the  unhappy  slaves  of  that  office.  His  name 
was   Fleury.     He   boldly  subscribed  to  an  opposition 


Bureaucracy,  141 

newspaper,  wore  a  gray  hat  with  a  broad  brim,  red 
bands  on  his  blue  trousers,  a  blue  waistcoat  with  gilt 
buttons,  and  a  surtout  coat  crossed  over  the  breast 
like  that  of  a  quartermaster  of  gendarmerie.  Though 
unj'ielding  in  his  opinions,  he  continued  to  be  em- 
ployed in  the  service,  all  the  while  predicting  a  fatal 
end  to  a  government  which  persisted  in  upholding  reli- 
gion. He  openly  avowed  his  sympathy  for  Napoleon, 
now  that  the  death  of  that  great  man  put  an  end  to  the 
laws  enacted  against  "the  partisans  of  the  usurper." 
Fleury,  ex-captain  of  a  regiment  of  the  line  under  the 
Emperor,  a  tall,  dark,  handsome  fellow,  was  now,  in 
addition  to  his  civil-service  post,  box-keeper  at  the 
Cirque-Olympique.  Bixiou  never  ventured  on  torment- 
ing Fleury,  for  the  rough  trooper,  who  was  a  good 
shot  and  clever  at  fencing,  seemed  quite  capable  of 
extreme  brutality  if  provoked.  An  ardent  subscriber 
to"Victoires  et  Conquetes,"  Fleury  nevertheless  re- 
fused to  pay  his  subscription,  though  he  kept  and 
read  the  copies,  alleging  that  they  exceeded  the  num- 
ber proposed  in  the  prospectus.  He  adored  Monsieur 
Rabourdin,  who  had  saved  him  from  dismissal,  and 
was  even  heard  to  say  that  if  an}^  misfortune  hap- 
pened to  the  chief  through  anybody's  fault  he  would 
kill  that  person.  Dutocq  meanly  courted  Fleury  be- 
cause he  feared  him.  Fleury,  crippled  with  debt, 
played  many  a  trick  on  his  creditors.     Expert  in  legal 


142  Bureaucracy, 

matters,  he  never  signed  a  promissory  note ;  and  had 
prudently  attached  his  own  salary  under  the  names 
of  fictitious  creditors,  so  that  he  was  able  to  draw 
nearly  the  whole  of  it  himself.  He  played  ecarte,  was 
the  life  of  evening  parties,  tossed  off  glasses  of  cham- 
pagne without  wetting  his  lips,  and  knew  all  the  songs 
of  Beranger  by  heart.  He  was  proud  of  his  full, 
sonorous  voice.  His  three  great  admirations  were 
Napoleon,  Bolivar,  and  Beranger.  Foy,  Lafitte,  and 
Casimir  Delavigne  he  only  esteemed.  Fleury,  as  3'ou 
will  have  guessed  already,  was  a  Southerner,  destined, 
no  doubt,  to  become  the  responsible  editor  of  a  liberal 
journal. 

Desroys,  the  mysterious  clerk  of  the  division,  con- 
sorted with  no  one,  talked  little,  and  hid  his  private 
life  so  carefully  that  no  one  knew  where  he  lived,  nor 
who  were  his  protectors,  nor  what  were  his  means  of 
subsistence.  Looking  about  them  for  the  causes  of  this 
reserve,  some  of  his  colleagues  thought  him  a  carbonaro, 
others  an  Orleanist ;  there  were  others  again  who  doubted 
whether  to  call  him  a  spy  or  a  man  of  solid  merit.  Des- 
roys was,  however,  simply  and  solely  the  son  of  a  "  Con- 
ventionel,"  who  did  not  vote  the  king's  death.  Cold 
and  prudent  by  temperament,  he  had  judged  the  world 
and  ended  b}^  relying  on  no  one  but  himself  Repub- 
lican in  secret,  an  admirer  of  Paul-Louis  Courier  and  a 
friend  of  Michel  Chrestien,  he  looked  to  time  and  public 


Bureaucracy.  143 

intelligence  to  bring  about  the  triumph  of  his  opinions 
from  end  to  end  of  Europe.  He  dreamed  of  a  new 
German}^  and  a  new  Italy.  His  heart  swelled  with  that 
dull,  collective  love  which  we  must  call  humanitarianism, 
the  eldest  son  of  deceased  philanthropy,  and  which  is  to 
the  divine  catholic  charity  what  system  is  to  art,  or 
reasoning  to  deed.  This  conscientious  puritan  of  free- 
dom, this  apostle  of  an  impossible  equality,  regretted 
keenly  that  his  poverty  forced  him  to  serve  the  govern- 
ment, and  he  made  various  efforts  to  find  a  place  else- 
where. Tall,  lean,  lanky,  and  solemn  in  appearance, 
like  a  man  who  expects  to  be  called  some  day  to  lay 
down  his  life  for  a  cause,  he  lived  on  a  page  of  Volne^^, 
studied  Saint- Just,  and  employed  himself  on  a  vindica- 
tion of  Robespierre,  whom  he  regarded  as  the  successor 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

The  last  of  the  individuals  belonging  to  these  bu- 
reaus who  merits  a  sketch  here  is  the  little  La  Billar- 
diere.  Having,  to  his  great  misfortune,  lost  his  mother, 
and  being  under  the  protection  of  the  minister,  safe  there- 
fore from  the  tyrannies  of  Baudoyer,  and  received  in 
all  the  ministerial  salons,  he  was  nevertheless  detested 
by  every  one  because  of  his  impertinence  and  conceit. 
The  two  chiefs  were  polite  to  him,  but  the  clerks  held 
him  at  arm's  length  and  prevented  all  companionship 
by  means  of  the  extreme  and  grotesque  politeness 
which  they  bestowed  upon  him.     A  pretty  youth  of 


144  Bureaucracy. 

twenty-two,  tall  and  slender,  with  the  manners  of 
an  Englishman,  a  dandy  in  dress,  curled  and  per- 
fumed, gloved  and  booted  in  the  latest  fashion,  and 
twirling  an  eyeglass,  Benjamin  de  la  Billardiere 
thought  himself  a  charming  fellow  and  possessed  all  the 
vices  of  the  great  world  with  none  of  its  graces.  He 
was  now  looking  forward  impatiently  to  the  death  of 
his  father,  that  he  might  succeed  to  the  title  of  baron. 
His  cards  were  printed  ' '  le  Chevalier  de  la  Billar- 
diere "  and  on  the  wall  of  his  office  hung,  in  a  frame, 
his  coat  of  arms  (sable,  two  swords  in  saltire,  on  a 
chief  azure  three  mullets  argent ;  with  the  motto : 
Toujour 8  fidele) .  Possessed  with  a  mania  for  talking 
heraldry,  he  once  asked  the  young  Vicomte  de  Porten- 
duere  why  his  arms  were  charged  in  a  certain  wa}', 
and  drew  down  upon  himself  the  happy  answer,  "  I 
did  not  make  them."  He  talked  of  his  devotion  to 
the  monarchy  and  the  attentions  the  Dauphine  paid 
him.  He  stood  very  well  with  des  Lupeaulx,  whom  he 
thought  his  friend,  and  they  often  breakfasted  together. 
Bixiou  posed  as  his  mentor,  and  hoped  to  rid  the  divi- 
sion and  France  of  the  young  fool  by  tempting  him  to 
excesses,  and  openly  avowed  that  intention. 

Such  were  the  principal  figures  in  La  Billardiere's 
division  of  the  ministry,  where  also  were  other  clerks 
of  less  account,  who  resembled  more  or  less  those 
that  are  represented  here.     It  is  difficult  even  for  an 


Bureaucracy,  145 

observer  to  decide  from  the  aspect  of  these  strange 
personalities  whether  the  goose-quill  tribe  were  becom- 
ing idiots  from  the  effects  of  their  employment  or  whether 
they  entered  the  service  because  they  were  natural  born 
fools.  Possibly  the  making  of  them  lies  at  the  door  of 
Nature  and  of  the  government  both.  Nature,  to  a  civil- 
service  clerk  is,  in  fact,  the  sphere  of  the  office ;  his 
horizon  is  bounded  on  all  sides  by  green  boxes ;  to 
him,  atmospheric  changes  are  the  air  of  the  corri- 
dors, the  masculine  exhalations  contained  in  rooms 
without  ventilators,  the  odor  of  paper,  pens,  and  ink ; 
the  soil  he  treads  is  a  tiled  pavement  or  a  wooden 
floor,  strewn  with  a  curious  litter  and  moistened  by  the 
attendant's  watering-pot ;  his  sky  is  the  ceiling  toward 
which  he  yawns ;  his  element  is  dust.  Several  dis- 
tinguished doctors  have  remonstrated  against  the  in- 
fluence of  this  second  nature,  both  savage  and  civilized, 
on  the  moral  being  vegetating  in  those  dreadful  pens 
called  bureaus,  where  the  sun  seldom  penetrates,  where 
thoughts  are  tied  down  to  occupations  like  that  of 
horses  who  turn  a  crank  and  who,  poor  beasts,  yawn 
distressingly  and  die  quickly.  Rabourdin  was,  there- 
fore, fully  justified  in  seeking  to  reform  their  present 
condition,  by  lessening  their  numbers  and  giving  to 
each  a  larger  salary  and  far  heavier  work.  Men  are 
neither  wearied  nor  bored  when  doing  great  things. 

Under  the  present  system  government  loses  fully  four 

10 


146  Bureaucracy, 

hours  out  of  the  nine  which  the  clerks  owe  to  the  ser- 
vice, —  hours  wasted,  as  we  shall  see,  in  conversations, 
in  gossip,  in  disputes,  and,  above  all,  in  underhand  in- 
triguing. The  reader  must  have  haunted  the  bureaus 
of  the  ministerial  departments  before  he  can  realize 
how  much  their  petty  and  belittling  life  resembles  that 
of  seminaries.  Wherever  men  live  collectivel}-  this  like- 
ness is  obvious  ;  in  regiments,  in  law-courts,  you  will  find 
the  elements  of  the  school  on  a  smaller  or  larger  scale. 
The  government  clerks,  forced  to  be  together  for  nine 
hours  of  the  day,  looked  upon  their  office  as  a  sort  of 
class-room  where  they  had  tasks  to  perform,  where  the 
head  of  the  bureau  was  no  other  than  a  schoolmaster, 
and  where  the  gratuities  bestowed  took  the  place  of 
prizes  given  out  to  proteges,  —  a  place,  moreover,  where 
they  teased  and  hated  each  other,  and  yet  felt  a  certain 
comradeship,  colder  than  that  of  a  regiment,  which  it- 
self is  less  hearty  than  that  of  seminaries.  As  a  man 
advances  in  life  he  grows  more  selfish  ;  egoism  develops, 
and  relaxes  all  the  secondary  bonds  of  aflTection.  A 
government  office  is,  in  short,  a  microcosm  of  society, 
with  its  oddities  and  hatreds,  its  envy  and  its  cupidit}^, 
its  determination  to  push  on,  no  matter  who  goes  under, 
its  frivolous  gossip  which  gives  so  many  wounds,  and 
its  perpetual  spying. 


Bureaucracy.  147 


THE  MACHINE   IN  MOTION. 

At  this  moment  the  division  of  Monsieur  de  la  Bil- 
lardiere  was  in  a  state  of  unusual  excitement,  resulting 
very  naturally  from  the  event  which  was  about  to 
happen ;  for  heads  of  divisions  do  not  die  every  day, 
and  there  is  no  insurance  office  where  the  chances  of 
life  and  death  are  calculated  with  more  sagacity  than  in 
a  government  bureau.  Self-interest  stifles  all  compas- 
sion, as  it  does  in  children,  but  the  government  service 
adds  h^'pocrisy  to  boot. 

The  clerks  of  the  bureau  Baudoyer  arrived  at  eight 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  whereas  those  of  the  bureau 
Rabourdin  seldom  appeared  till  nine,  —  a  circumstance 
which  did  not  prevent  the  work  in  the  latter  office  from 
being  more  rapidly  dispatched  than  that  of  the  former. 
Dutocq  had  important  reasons  for  coming  early  on  this 
particular  morning.  The  previous  evening  he  had  fur- 
tively entered  the  little  studj^  where  S^bastien  was  at 
work,  and  had  seen  him  copying  some  papers  for  Ra- 
bourdin ;  he  concealed  himself  until  he  saw  Sebastien 
leave  the  premises  without  taking  any  papers  away  with 


148  Bureaucracy. 

him.  Certain,  therefore,  of  finding  the  rather  volumi- 
nous memorandum  which  he  had  seen,  together  with  its 
copy,  in  some  corner  of  the  studj',  he  searched  through 
the  boxes  one  after  another  until  he  finally  came  upon 
the  fatal  list.  He  carried  it  in  hot  haste  to  an  auto- 
graph-printing house,  where  he  obtained  two  pressed 
copies  of  the  memorandum,  showing,  of  course,  Rabour- 
din's  own  writing.  Anxious  not  to  arouse  suspicion, 
he  had  gone  very  early  to  the  oflftce  and  replaced  both 
the  memorandum  and  Sebastien's  copy  in  the  box  from 
which  he  had  taken  them.  Sebastien,  who  was  kept  up 
till  after  midnight  at  Madame  Rabourdin's  party,  was, 
in  spite  of  his  desire  to  get  to  the  office  early,  preceded 
by  the  spirit  of  hatred.  Hatred  lived  in  the  rue  Saint- 
Louis-Saint-Honore,  whereas  love  and  devotion  lived 
far-off  in  the  rue  du  Roi-Dore  in  the  Marais.  This 
slight  delay  was  destined  to  aflfect  Rabourdin's  whole 
career. 

Sebastien  opened  his  box  eagerty,  found  the  memo- 
randum and  his  own  unfinished  copy  all  in  order,  and 
locked  them  at  once  into  the  desk  as  Rabourdin  had 
directed.  The  mornings  are  dark  in  these  offices 
towards  the  end  of  December,  sometimes  indeed  the 
lamps  are  lit  till  after  ten  o'clock  ;  consequently  Sebas- 
tien did  not  happen  to  notice  the  pressure  of  the  cop}'- 
ing-machine  upon  the  paper.  But  when,  about  half- 
past  nine  o'clock,  Rabourdin  looked  at  his  memorandum 


Bureaucracy.  149 

he  saw  at  once  the  effects  of  the  copying  process,  and 
all  the  more  readily  because  he  was  then  considering 
whether  these  autographic  presses  could  not  be  made  to 
do  the  work  of  copying  clerks. 

"Did  any  one  get  to  the  oflSce  before  you?"   he 
asked. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Sebastien,  —  "  Monsieur  Dutocq." 
"  Ah !  well,  he  was  punctual.  Send  Antoine  to  me." 
Too  noble  to  distress  Sebastien  uselessly  by  blaming 
him  for  a  misfortune  now  beyond  remedy,  Rabourdin 
said  no  more.  Antoine  came.  Rabourdin  asked  if  any 
clerk  had  remained  at  the  office  after  four  o'clock  the 
previous  evening.  The  man  replied  that  Monsieur 
Dutocq  had  worked  there  later  than  Monsieur  de  la 
Roche,  who  was  usually  the  last  to  leave.  Rabourdin 
dismissed  him  with  a  nod,  and  resumed  the  thread  of 
his  reflections. 

"  Twice  I  have  prevented  his  dismissal,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "  and  this  is  my  reward." 

This  morning  was  to  Rabourdin  like  the  solemn  hour 
in  which  great  commanders  decide  upon  a  battle  and 
weigh  all  chances.  Knowing  the  spirit  of  official  life 
better  than  any  one,  he  well  knew  that  it  would  never 
pardon,  any  more  than  a  school  or  the  galleys  or  the 
army  pardon,  what  looked  like  espionage  or  tale-bearing. 
A  man  capable  of  informing  against  his  comrades  is 
disgraced,  dishonored,  despised ;  the  ministers  in  such 


150  Bureaucracy. 

a  case  would  disavow  their  own  agents.  Nothing  was 
left  to  an  official  so  placed  but  to  send  in  his  resigna- 
tion and  leave  Paris  ;  his  honor  is  permanently  stained  ; 
explanations  are  of  no  avail ;  no  one  will  either  ask  for 
them  or  listen  to  them.  A  minister  may  do  the  same 
thing  and  be  thought  a  great  man,  able  to  choose  the 
right  instruments ;  but  a  mere  subordinate  will  be 
judged  as  a  sp3',  no  matter  what  may  be  his  motives. 
While  justly  measuring  the  folly  of  such  judgment, 
Rabourdin  knew  that  it  was  all-powerful ;  and  he  knew, 
too,  that  he  was  crushed.  More  surprised  than  over- 
whelmed, he  now  sought  for  the  best  course  to  follow 
under  the  circumstances  ;  and  with  such  thoughts  in  his 
mind  he  was  necessarily  aloof  from  the  excitement 
caused  in  the  division  by  the  death  of  Monsieur  de  la 
Billardiere  ;  in  fact  he  did  not  hear  of  it  until  young  La 
Briere,  who  was  able  to  appreciate  his  sterling  value, 
came  to  tell  him.  About  ten  o'clock,  in  the  bureau 
Baudoyer,  Bixiou  was  relating  the  last  moments  of  the 
life  of  the  director  to  Minard,  Desroys,  Monsieur 
Godard,  whom  he  had  called  from  his  private  office,  and 
Dutocq,  who  had  rushed  in  with  private  motives  of  his 
own.     Colleville  and  Chazelle  were  absent. 

Bixiou  [standing  with  his  back  to  the  stove  and  hold- 
ing up  the  sole  of  each  boot  alternately  to  dry  at  the 
open  door].  This  morning,  at  half-past  seven,  I  went 
to    inquire    after  our    most    worthy  and    respectable 


Bureaucracy,  151 

director,  knight  of  the  order  of  Christ,  et  ccetera^  et 
ccBtera,  Yes,  gentlemen,  last  night  he  was  a  being  with 
twenty  et  cceteras^  to-day  he  is  nothing,  not  even  a 
government  clerk.  I  asked  all  particulars  of  his  nurse. 
She  told  me  that  this  morning  at  five  o'clock  he  became 
uneasy  about  the  royal  famil3\  He  asked  for  the  names 
of  all  the  clerks  who  had  called  to  inquire  after  him  ; 
and  then  he  said:  "Fill  my  snuff-box,  give  me  the 
newspaper,  bring  m^^  spectacles,  and  change  my  ribbon 
of  the  Legion  of  honor,  —  it  is  very  dirty."  I  suppose 
you  know  he  alwa3's  wore  his  orders  in  bed.  He  was 
fully  conscious,  retained  his  senses  and  all  his  usual 
ideas.  But,  presto !  ten  minutes  later  the  water  rose, 
rose,  rose  and  flooded  his  chest ;  he  knew  he  was  dying 
for  he  felt  the  cysts  break.  At  that  fatal  moment  he 
gave  evident  proof  of  his  powerful  mind  and  vast  intel- 
lect. Ah,  we  never  rightly  appreciated  him !  We  used 
to  laugh  at  him  and  call  him  a  booby  —  didn't  you. 
Monsieur  Godard? 

GoDARD.  I  ?  I  always  rated  Monsieur  de  la  Billar- 
diere's  talents  higher  than  the  rest  of  you. 

Bixiou.     You  and  he  could  understand  each  other ! 

GoDARD.  He  was  n't  a  bad  man ;  he  never  harmed 
any  one. 

Bixiou.  To  do  harm  3'ou  must  do  something,  and 
he  never  did  anything.  If  it  was  n't  you  who  said  he 
was  a  dolt,  it  must  have  been  Minard. 


152  Bureaucracy, 

MiNARD  [shrugging  his  shoulders].     I! 

Bixiou.  Well,  then,  it  was  j^ou,  Dutocq !  [Dutocq 
made  a  vehement  gesture  of  denial.]  Oh !  very  good, 
then  it  was  nobody.  Everj^  one  in  this  office  knew 
his  intellect  was  herculean.  Well,  you  were  right. 
He  ended,  as  I  have  said,  like  the  great  man  that 
he  was. 

Desroys  [impatiently].  Pray  what  did  he  do  that 
was  so  great  ?  he  had  the  weakness  to  confess  himself. 

Bixiou.  Yes,  monsieur,  he  received  the  holy  sac- 
raments. But  do  3^ou  know  what  he  did  in  order  to 
receive  them?  He  put  on  his  uniform  as  gentleman-in- 
ordinary  of  the  Bedchamber,  with  all  his  orders,  and 
had  himself  powdered ;  they  tied  his  queue  (that  poor 
queue!)  with  a  fresh  ribbon.  Now  I  say  that  none 
but  a  man  of  remarkable  character  would  have  his 
queue  tied  with  a  fresh  ribbon  just  as  he  was  dying. 
There  are  eight  of  us  here,  and  I  don't  believe  one 
among  us  is  capable  of  such  an  act.  But  that's  not  all ; 
he  said,  —  for  you  know  all  celebrated  men  make  a  dy- 
ing speech ;  he  said,  —  stop  now,  what  did  he  say  ?  Ah ! 
he  said,  "I  must  attire  myself  to  meet  the  King  of 
Heaven,  —  I,  who  have  so  often  dressed  in  my  best  for 
audience  with  the  kings  of  earth."  That's  how  Mon- 
sieur de  la  Billardiere  departed  this  life.  He  took 
upon  himself  to  justify  the  saj^ing  of  Pythagoras,  "  No 
man  is  known  until  he  dies." 


Bureaucracy.  153 

CoLLEViLLE  [rushing  in].    Gentlemen,  great  news  ! 

All.     We  know  it. 

CoLLEViLLE.  I  defy  you  to  know  it !  I  have  been 
hunting  for  it  ever  since  the  accession  of  His  Majesty 
to  the  thrones  of  France  and  of  Navarre.  Last  night  I 
succeeded !  but  with  what  labor !  Madame  Colleville 
asked  me  what  was  the  matter. 

DuTOCQ.  Do  you  think  we  have  time  to  bother  our- 
selves with  3^our  intolerable  anagrams  when  the  worthy 
Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere  has  just  expired  ? 

CoLLEviLLE.  That 's  Bixiou's  nonsense  !  I  have  just 
come  from  Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere's ;  he  is  still 
living,  though  they  expect  him  to  die  soon.  [Godard, 
indignant  at  the  hoax,  goes  off  grumbling.]  Gentle- 
men !  you  would  never  guess  what  extraordinary 
events  are  revealed  by  the  anagram  of  this  sacra- 
mental sentence  [he  pulls  out  a  paper  and  reads], 
Charles  dix,  par  la  grace  de  Dieu,  roi  de  France  et 
de  Navarre, 

GoDARD  [re-entering].  Tell  what  it  is  at  once,  and 
don't  keep  people  waiting. 

Colleville  [triumphantly  unfolding  the  rest  of  the 
paper].     Listen! 

A  H.  Y,  il  cedera ; 
De  S.   C,  I,  d.  partira ; 
En  nauf  errera. 
Decede  a   Gorix. 


154  Bureaucracy. 

Every  letter  is  there  !  [He  repeats  it.]  A  Henri  cinq 
cedera  (his  crown  of  course)  ;  de  Saint-  Cloud  partira  ; 
en  nauf  (that 's  an  old  French  word  for  skiff,  vessel, 
felucca,  corvette,  an^^thing  you  like)  errera  — 

DuTOCQ.  What  a  tissue  of  absurdities !  How  can 
the  King  cede  his  crown  to  a  Henri  V.,  who,  according 
to  3'our  nonsense  must  be  his  grandson,  when  Mon- 
seigneur  le  Dauphin  is  living.  Are  j^ou  prophesying 
the  Dauphin's  death? 

Bixiou.     What 's  Gorix,  pray?  —  the  name  of  a  cat? 

CoLLEviLLE  [provokcd].  It  is  the  archaeological  and 
lapidarial  abbreviation  of  the  name  of  a  town,  my 
good  friend ;  I  looked  it  out  in  Malte-Brun :  Goritz, 
in  Latin  Gorixia,  situated  in  Bohemia  or  Hungary, 
or  it  may  be  Austria  — 

Bixiou.  Tyrol,  the  Basque  provinces,  or  South 
America.  Why  don't  j'ou  set  it  all  to  music  and  play 
it  on  the  clarionet? 

GoDARD  [shrugging  his  shoulders  and  departing]. 
What  utter  nonsense ! 

CoLLEviLLE.  Nousensc !  nonsense  indeed !  It  is 
a  pity  you  don't  take  the  trouble  to  study  fatalism,  the 
rehgion  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon. 

GoDARD  [irritated  at  Colleville's  tone].  Monsieur 
Colleville,  let  me  tell  you  that  Bonaparte  may  perhaps 
be  styled  Emperor  by  historians,  but  it  is  extremely  out 
of  place  to  refer  to  him  as  such  in  a  government  office. 


Bureaucracy.  155 

Bixiou  [laughing] .  Get  an  anagram  out  of  that,  my 
dear  fellow. 

CoLLEViLLE  [angrily].  Let  me  tell  you  that  if  Na- 
poleon Bonaparte  had  studied  the  letters  of  his  name  on 
the  14th  of  April,  1814,  he  might  perhaps  be  Emperor 
still. 

Bixiou.    How  do  you  make  that  out  ? 

CoLLEViLLE  [solemnly].  Napoleon  Bonaparte.  — No, 
appear  not  at  Elba ! 

DuTOCQ.  You'll  lose  your  place  for  talking  such 
nonsense. 

CoLLEviLLE.  If  my  place  is  taken  from  me,  Fran- 
cois Keller  will  make  it  hot  for  your  minister.  [Dead 
silence.]  I'd  have  3'ou  to  know,  Master  Dutocq,  that 
all  known  anagrams  have  actually  come  to  pass.  Look 
here,  —  you,  yourself,  —  don't  you  marry,  for  there  's 
"  coqu"  in  yowx  name. 

Bixiou  [interrupting] .     And  c?,  ^,  for  de-testable. 

Dutocq  [without  seeming  angry].  I  don't  care,  as 
long  as  it  is  only  in  my  name.  Why  don't  3'ou  ana- 
grammatize,  or  whatever  you  call  it,  Xavier  Rahour- 
din^  chefdu  bureau  f 

CoLLEviLLE.    Bless  you,  so  I  have  ! 

Bixiou  [mending  his  pen].  And  what  did  you  make 
of  it? 

CoLLEViLLE.  It  comcs  out  as  follows  :  D'abord  reva 
bureaux^  E-u,  —  (you  catch  the  meaning  ?  et  cut  —  and 


156  Bureaucracy. 

had)  E-u  fin  riche ;  which  signifies  that  after  first  be- 
longing to  the  administration,  he  gave  it  up  and  got 
rich  elsewhere.  [Repeats.]  D'abord  reva  bureaux^ 
E-u  fin  riche. 

DuTOCQ.     That  is  queer ! 

Bixiou.    Xry  Isidore  Baudoyer. 

CoLLEViLLE  [mysteriouslj].  I  sha'n't  tell  the  other 
anagrams  to  any  one  but  Thuillier. 

Bixiou.  I  '11  bet  you  a  breakfast  that  I  can  tell  that 
one  m3"self. 

CoLLEViLLE.     And  I  '11  pay  if  3^ou  find  it  out. 

Bixiou.  Then  I  shall  breakfast  at  your  expense ; 
but  you  won't  be  angry,  will  you  ?  Two  such  geniuses 
as  3^ou  and  I  need  never  conflict.  Isidore  Baudoyer 
anagrams  into  Bis  d'ahoyeur  d*oie. 

CoLLEViLLE  [petrified  with  amazement].  You  stole 
it  from  me ! 

Bixiou  [with  dignity].  Monsieur  Colleville,  do  me 
the  honor  to  believe  that  1  am  rich  enough  in  absurdity 
not  to  steal  my  neighbor's  nonsense. 

Baudoyer  [entering  with  a  bundle  of  papers  in  his 
hand].  Gentlemen,  I  request  you  to  shout  a  little 
louder ;  you  bring  this  office  into  such  high  repute  with 
the  administration.  My  worthy  coadjutor,  Monsieur 
Clergeot,  did  me  the  honor  just  now  to  come  and  ask 
a  question,  and  he  heard  the  noise  3^ou  are  making 
[passes  into  Monsieur  Godard's  room]. 


Bureaucracy,  157 

Bixiou  [in  a  low  voice].  The  watch-dog  is  very  tame 
this  morning ;  there  '11  be  a  change  of  weather  before 
night. 

DuTOCQ  [whispering  to  Bixiou].  I  have  something 
I  want  to  say  to  you. 

Bixiou  [fingering  Dutocq's  waistcoat].  You  've  a 
pretty  waistcoat,  that  cost  you  nothing;  is  that  what 
you  want  to  say? 

DuTOCQ.  Nothing,  indeed !  I  never  paid  so  dear 
for  anything  in  my  life.  That  stuff  cost  six  francs  a 
yard  in  the  best  shop  in  the  rue  de  la  Paix,  —  a  fine 
dead  stuff,  the  very  thing  for  deep  mourning. 

Bixiou.  You  know  about  engravings  and  such  things, 
my  dear  fellow,  but  you  are  totally  ignorant  of  the  laws 
of  etiquette.  Well,  no  man  can  be  a  universal  genius  ! 
Silk  is  positively  not  admissible  in  deep  mourning. 
Don't  you  see  I  am  wearing  woollen?  Monsieur  Ra- 
bourdin.  Monsieur  Baudoyer,  and  the  minister  are  all  in 
woollen ;  so  is  the  faubourg  Saint-Germain.  There 's 
no  one  here  but  Minard  who  does  n't  wear  woollen ; 
he 's  afraid  of  being  taken  for  a  sheep.  That 's  the  rea- 
son why  he  did  n't  put  on  mourning  for  Louis  XVIII. 

[During  this  conversation  Baudoyer  is  sitting  by  the 
fire  in  Godard's  room,  and  the  two  are  conversing  in 
a  low  voice.] 

Baudoyer.  Yes,  the  worthy  man  is  dying.  The 
two  ministers   are  both  with  him.     My  father-in-law 


158  Bureaucracy. 

has  been  notified  of  the  event.  If  you  want  to  do  me 
a  signal  service  3'ou  will  take  a  cab  and  go  and  let 
Madame  Baudoyer  know  what  is  happening ;  for  Mon- 
sieur Saillard  can't  leave  his  desk,  nor  I  m}^  office.  Put 
5^ourself  at  m}'  wife's  orders ;  do  whatever  she  wishes. 
She  has,  I  believe,  some  ideas  of  her  own,  and  wants 
to  take  certain  steps  simultaneously.  [The  two  func- 
tionaries go  out  together.] 

GoDARD.  Monsieur  Bixiou,  I  am  obliged  to  leave 
the  office  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  You  will  take  my 
place. 

Baudoyer  [to  Bixiou,  benignly].  Consult  me,  if 
there  is  any  necessit3\ 

Bixiou.      This  time,  La  Billardiere  is  really  dead. 

DuTOCQ  [in  Bixiou's  ear].  Come  outside  a  minute. 
[The  two  go  into  the  corridor  and  gaze  at  each  other 
like  birds  of  ill-omen.] 

DuTOCQ  [whispering].  Listen.  Now  is  the  time  for 
us  to  understand  each  other  and  push  our  wa}'.  What 
would  you  say  to  j'our  being  made  head  of  the  bureau, 
and  I  under  j^ou? 

Bixiou  [shrugging  his  shoulders].  Come,  come, 
don't  talk  nonsense ! 

DuTOCQ.  If  Baudoyer  gets  La  Billardiere's  place 
Rabourdin  won't  stay  on  where  he  is.  Between  our- 
selves, Baudoyer  is  so  incapable  that  if  du  Bruel  and 
you  don't  help  him  he  will  certainly  be  dismissed  in  a 


Bureaucracy,  159 

couple  of  months.  If  I  know  arithmetic  that  will  give 
three  empt}^  places  for  us  three  to  fill  — 

Bixiou.  Three  places  right  under  our  noses,  which 
will  certainly  be  given  to  some  bloated  favorite,  some 
sp3',  some  pious  fraud,  —  to  Colleville  perhaps,  whose 
wife  has  ended  where  all  pretty  women  end  —  in 
piety. 

DuTOCQ.  No,  to  you^  my  dear  fellow,  if  you  will 
only,  for  once  in  yourUfe,  use  your  wits  logically.  [He 
stopped  as  if  to  study  the  effect  of  his  adverb  in  Bixiou's 
face.]     Come,  let  us  play  fair. 

Bixiou  [stolidly].     Let  me  see  3'our  game. 

DuTOCQ.  I  don't  wish  to  be  anything  more  than 
under-head-clerk.  I  know  myself  perfectly  well,  and  I 
know  I  have  n't  the  ability,  like  you,  to  be  head  of  a 
bureau.  Du  Bruel  can  be  director,  and  you  the  head 
of  this  bureau ;  he  will  leave  you  his  place  as  soon  as 
he  has  made  his  pile  ;  and  as  for  me,  I  shall  swim  with 
the  tide  comfortably^,  under  your  protection,  till  I  can 
retire  on  a  pension. 

Bixiou.  Sly  dog !  but  how  do  you  expect  to  carry 
out  a  plan  which  means  forcing  the  minister's  hand  and 
ejecting  a  man  of  talent.  Between  ourselves,  Rabourdin 
is  the  only  man  capable  of  taking  charge  of  the  division, 
and  I  might  say  of  the  ministrj^  Do  3'ou  know  that 
they  talk  of  putting  in  over  his  head  that  solid  lump  of 
foolishness,  that  cube  of  idiocy,  Baudoyer? 


160  Bureaucracy, 

DuTOCQ  [consequential!}'] .  My  dear  fellow,  I  am  iu 
a  position  to  rouse  the  whole  division  against  Rabour- 
din.  You  know  how  devoted  Fleurj  is  to  him?  Well, 
I  can  make  Fleurj'  despise  him. 

Bixiou.     Despised  by  Fleury ! 

DuTOCQ.  Not  a  soul  will  stand  by  Rabourdin ; 
the  clerks  will  go  in  a  body  and  complain  of  him  to  the 
minister,  —  not  only  in  our  division,  but  in  all  the 
divisions  — 

Bixiou.  Forward,  march !  infantry,  cavalry,  artillery, 
and  marines  of  the  guard  !  You  rave,  my  good  fellow  ! 
And  I,  what  part  am  I  to  take  in  the  business  ? 

DuTOCQ.  You  are  to  make  a  cutting  caricature,  — 
sharp  enough  to  kill  a  man. 

Bixiou.    How  much  will  you  pay  for  it? 

DuTOCQ.     A  hundred  francs. 

Bixiou  [to  himself].    Then  there  is  something  in  it. 

DuTOCQ  [continuing].  You  must  represent  Rabour- 
din dressed  as  a  butcher  (make  it  a  good  likeness),  find 
analogies  between  a  kitchen  and  a  bureau,  put  a  skewer 
in  his  hand,  draw  portraits  of  the  principal  clerks  and 
stick  their  heads  on  fowls,  put  them  in  a  monstrous 
coop  labelled  "Civil  service  executions ;"  make  him 
cutting  the  throat  of  one,  and  supposed  to  take  the 
others  in  turn.  You  can  have  geese  and  ducks  with 
heads  like  ours,  —  you  understand  !  Baudoyer,  for  in- 
stance, he  '11  make  an  excellent  turkej'-buzzard. 


Bureaucracy.  161 

Bixiou.  Ris  d'ahoyeur  d^oie!  [He  has  watched 
Dutocq  carefully  for  some  time.]  Did  you  think  of  that 
yourself? 

Dutocq.     Yes,  I  myself. 

Bixiou  [to  himself].  Do  evil  feelings  bring  men  to 
the  same  result  as  talents  ?  [Aloud]  Well,  I  '11  do  it 
[Dutocq  makes  a  motion  of  delight]  —  when  [full 
stop]  —  I  know  where  I  am  and  what  I  can  rely  on.  If 
you  don't  succeed  I  shall  lose  my  place,  and  I  must 
make  a  living.  You  are  a  curious  kind  of  innocent 
still,  my  dear  colleague. 

Dutocq.  Well,  you  needn't  make  the  lithograph 
till  success  is  proved. 

Bixiou.  Why  don't  you  come  out  and  tell  me  the 
whole  truth? 

Dutocq.  I  must  first  see  how  the  land  lays  in  the 
bureau  ;  we  will  talk  about  it  later  [goes  off]. 

Bixiou  [alone  in  the  corridor].  That  fish,  for  he's 
more  a  fish  than  a  bird,  that  Dutocq  has  a  good  idea 
in  his  head  —  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  where  he  stole 
it.  If  Baudoyer  should  succeed  La  Billaidiere  it 
would  be  fun,  more  than  fun  -r-  profit !  [Returns  to  the 
oflSce.]  Gentlemen,  I  announce  glorious  changes  ;  papa 
La  Billardiere  is  dead,  really  dead,  —  no  nonsense,  word 
of  honor !  Godard  is  off  on  business  for  our  excellent 
chief  Baudoyer,  successor  presumptive  to  the  deceased. 
[Minard,  Desro3's,  and  Colleville  raise  their  heads  in 

11 


162  Bureaucracy. 

amazement ;  the}^  all  lay  down  their  pens,  and  CoUeville 
blows  his  nose.]  Eveiy  one  of  us  is  to  be  promoted  ! 
CoUeville  will  be  under-head- clerk  at  the  verj-  least. 
Minard  may  have  my  place  as  chief  clerk  —  whj^  not  ? 
he  is  quite  as  dull  as  I  am.  Hey,  Minard,  if  3'ou  should 
get  twenty-five  hundred  francs  a-j^ear  3'oui-  little  wife 
would  be  uncommonly  pleased,  and  you  could  buy 
yourself  a  pair  of  boots  now  and  then. 

CoLLEViLLE.  But  you  dou't  get  twentj'-five  hundred 
francs. 

Bixiou.  Monsieur  Dutocq  gets  that  in  Rabourdin's 
office ;  why  should  n't  I  get  it  this  year  ?  Monsieur 
Baudoyer  gets  it. 

CoLLEViLLE.  Oul}^  through  the  influence  of  Monsieur 
Saillard.  No  other  chief  clerk  gets  that  in  any  of  the 
divisions. 

Paulmier.  Bah !  Has  n't  Monsieur  Cochin  three 
thousand?  He  succeeded  Monsieur  Vavasseur,  who 
served  ten  j^ears  under  the  Empire  at  four  thousand. 
His  salary  was  dropped  to  three  when  the  King  first 
returned ;  then  to  two  thousand  five  hundred  before 
Vavasseur  died.  But  Monsieur  Cochin,  who  succeeded 
him,  had  influence  enough  to  get  the  salary  put  back 
to  three  thousand. 

CoLLEviLLE.  Mousicur  Cochin  signs  E.  A.  L.  Cochin 
(he  is  named  i^mile-Adolphe-Lucian),  which,  when  ana- 
grammed,  gives  Cochineal.     Now  observe,  he  's  a  part- 


Bureaucracy,  163 

ner  in  a  druggist's  business  in  the  rue  des  Lombards, 
the  Maison  Matifat,  which  made  its  fortune  b}'  that 
identical  colonial  product. 

Baudoyer  [entering].  Monsieur  Chazelle,  I  see,  is 
not  here ;  you  will  be  good  enough  to  say  I  asked  for 
him,  gentlemen. 

Bixiou  [who  had  hastily  stuck  a  hat  on  Chazelle's 
chair  when  he  heard  Baudoyer's  step].  Excuse  me, 
Monsieur,  but  Chazelle  has  gone  to  the  Rabourdins' 
to  make  an  inquiry. 

Chazelle  [entering  with  his  hat  on  his  head,  and  not 
seeing  Baudoyer].  La  Billardiere  is  done  for,  gentlemen  ! 
Rabourdin  is  head  of  the  division  and  Master  of  petitions  ; 
he  has  n't  stolen  his  promotion,  that 's  very  certain. 

Baudoyer  [to  Chazelle].  You  found  that  appoint- 
ment in  your  second  hat,  I  presume  [points  to  the  hat 
on  the  chair].  This  is  the  third  time  within  a  month 
that  3^ou  have  come  after  nine  o'clock.  If  you  con- 
tinue the  practice  you  will  get  on  —  elsewhere.  [To 
Bixiou,  who  is  reading  the  newspaper.]  My  dear 
Monsieur  Bixiou,  do  pray  leave  the  newspapers  to 
these  gentlemen  who  are  going  to  breakfast,  and  come 
into  my  ofRce  for  your  orders  for  the  da3^  I  don't 
know  what  Monsieur  Rabourdin  wants  with  Gabriel ; 
he  keeps  him  to  do  his  private  errands,  I  believe. 
I've  rung  three  times  and  can't  get  him.  [Baudoyer 
and  Bixiou  retire  into  the  private  oflSce.] 


164  Bureaucracy. 

Chazelle.    Damned  unlucky! 

Paulmier  [delighted  to  annoy  Chazelle].  Why 
did  n't  3^ou  look  about  when  yoM  came  into  the  room  ? 
You  might  have  seen  the  elephant,  and  the  hat  too ; 
they  are  big  enough  to  be  visible. 

Chazelle  [dismally].  Disgusting  business  !  I  don't 
see  wh}^  we  should  be  treated  like  slaves  because  the 
government  gives  us  four  francs  and  sixt3'-five  centimes 
a  day. 

Fleury  [entering].  Down  with  Baudoj-er!  hurrah 
for  Eabourdin  !  —  that 's  the  cry  in  the  division. 

Chazelle  [getting  more  and  more  angry].  Bau- 
doyer  can  turn  me  off  if  he  likes,  I  sha'n't  care.  In 
Paris  there  are  a  thousand  ways  of  earning  five  francs 
a  day ;  why,  I  could  earn  that  at  the  Palais  de  Justice, 
cop3'ing  briefs  for  the  lawyers. 

Paulmier  [still  prodding  him].  It  is  very  easy  to 
say  that ;  but  a  government  place  is  a  government 
place,  and  that  plucky  Colleville,  who  works  like  a 
galley-slave  outside  of  this  office,  and  who  could  earn, 
if  he  lost  his  appointment,  much  more  than  his  salary-, 
prefers  to  keep  his  place.  Who  the  devil  is  fool  enough 
to  give  up  his  expectations  ? 

Chazelle  [continuing  his  philippic].  You  may  not 
be,  but  I  am  !  We  have  no  chances  at  all.  Time  was 
when  nothing  was  more  encouraging  than  a  civil-ser- 
vice  career.      So   many  men  were  in  the  army  that 


Bureaucracy.  165 

there  were  not  enough  for  the  government  work;  the 
maimed  and  the  halt  and  the  sick  ones,  like  Paulmier, 
and  the  near-sighted  ones,  all  had  their  chance  of  a 
rapid  promotion.'  But  now,  ever  since  the  Chamber 
invented  what  they  call  special  training,  and  the  rules 
and  regulations  for  civil-service  examiners,  we  are 
worse  off  than  common  soldiers.  The  poorest  places 
are  at  the  mercy  of  a  thousand  mischances  because 
we  are  now  ruled  by  a  thousand  sovereigns. 

Bixiou  [returning].  Are  you  crazy,  Chazelle? 
Where  do  you  find  a  thousand  sovereigns?  —  not  in 
your  pocket,  are  they? 

Chazelle.  Count  them  up.  There  are  four  hundred 
over  there  at  the  end  of  the  pont  de  la  Concorde  (so 
called  because  it  leads  to  the  scene  of  perpetual  dis- 
cord between  the  Right  and  Left  of  the  Chamber)  ; 
three  hundred  more  at  the  end  of  the  rue  de  Tournon. 
The  court,  which  ought  to  count  for  the  other  three 
hundred,  has  seven  hundred  parts  less  power  to  get 
a  man  appointed  to  a  place  under  government  than 
the  Emperor  Napoleon  had. 

Fleury.  All  of  which  signifies  that  in  a  country 
where  there  are  three  powers  you  may  bet  a  thousand  to 
one  that  a  government  clerk  who  has  no  influence  but 
his  own  merits  to  advance  him  will  remain  in  obscurity. 

Bixiou  [looking  alternately  at  Chazelle  and  Fleury]. 
My  sons,  you  have   yet  to   learn  that  in  these  days 


166  Bureaucracy. 

the  worst  state  of  life  is  the  state  of  belonging  to  the 
State. 

Fleury.    Because  it  has  a  constitutional  government. 

CoLLEViLLE.     Gentlemen,  gentlemen  !  no  politics  ! 

Bixiou.  Fleury  is  right.  Serving  the  State  in 
these  daj'S  is  no  longer  serving  a  prince  who  knew 
how  to  punish  and  reward.  The  State  now  is  every- 
body. Everybody  of  course  cares  for  nobod}'.  Serv^e 
everybody  and  you  serve  nobody.  Nobody  is  inter- 
ested in  nobody ;  the  government  clerk  lives  between 
the  two  negations.  The  world  has  neither  pity  nor 
respect,  neither  heart  nor  head ;  everybody  forgets  to- 
morrow the  service  of  yesterda3\  Now  each  one  of  you 
may  be,  like  Monsieur  Baudoyer,  an  administrative 
genius,  a  Chateaubriand  of  reports,  a  Bossuet  of  circu- 
lars, the  Canalis  of  memorials,  the  gifted  son  of  diplo- 
matic despatches ;  but  I  tell  you  there  is  a  fatal  law 
which  interferes  with  all  administrative  genius,  — I  mean 
the  law  of  promotion  b}'  average.  This  average  is 
based  on  the  statistics  of  promotion  and  the  statistics 
of  mortality  combined.  It  is  ver}^  certain  that  on  enter- 
ing whichever  section  of  the  Civil  Service  3'ou  please  at 
the  age  of  eighteen,  you  can't  get  eighteen  hundred 
francs  a  year  till  you  reach  the  age  of  thirty.  Now 
there's  no  free  and  independent  career  in  which,  in  the 
course  of  twelve  years,  a  young  man  who  has  gone 
through  the  grammar-school,  been  vaccinated,  is  exempt 


Bureaucracy.  167 

from  military  service,  and  possesses  all  his  facul- 
ties (I  don't  mean  transcendent  ones)  can't  amass  a 
capital  of  fortj'-five  thousand  francs  in  centimes,  which 
represents  a  permanent  income  equal  to  our  salaries, 
which  are,  after  all,  precarious.  In  twelve  years  a 
grocer  can  earn  enough  to  give  him  ten  thousand  francs 
a  year ;  a  painter  can  daub  a  mile  of  canvass  and  be 
decorated  with  the  Legion  of  honor,  or  pose  as  a  neg- 
lected genius.  A  literary  man  becomes  professor  of 
something  or  other,  or  a  journalist  at  a  hundred 
francs  for  a  thousand  lines ;  he  writes  feuilletons^  or 
he  gets  into  Sainte-Pelagie  for  a  brilliant  article  that 
offends  the  Jesuits,  —  which  of  course  is  an  immense 
benefit  to  him  and  makes  him  a  politician  at  once. 
Even  a  lazy  man,  who  does  nothing  but  make  debts, 
has  time  to  marry  a  widow  who  pays  them ;  a  priest 
finds  time  to  become  a  bishop  in  partihus.  A  sober, 
intelligent  j^oung  fellow,  who  begins  with  a  small  capi- 
tal as  a  money-changer,  soon  buys  a  share  in  a  broker's 
business  ;  and,  to  go  even  lower,  a  petty  clerk  becomes 
a  notary,  a  rag-picker  laj^s  by  two  or  three  thousand 
francs  a  year,  and  the  poorest  workmen  often  become 
manufacturers ;  whereas,  in  the  rotatory  movement  of 
this  present  civilization,  which  mistakes  perpetual 
division  and  redivision  for  progress,  an  unhappy  civil- 
service  clerk,  like  Chazelle  for  instance,  is  forced  to 
dine  for  twenty-two  sous  a  meal,   struggles  with  his 


168  Bureaucracy. 

tailor  and  bootmaker,  gets  into  debt,  and  is  an  abso- 
lute nothing ;  worse  than  that,  he  becomes  an  idiot ! 
Come,  gentlemen,  now's  the  time  to  make  a  stand! 
Let  us  all  give  in  our  resignations !  Fleury,  Chazelle, 
fling  yourselves  into  other  employments  and  become 
the  great  men  you  really  are. 

Chazelle  [calmed  down  by  Bixiou's  allocution]. 
No,  I  thank  you  [general  laughter]. 

Bixiou.  You  are  wrong ;  in  your  situation  I  should 
try  to  get  ahead  of  the  general  secretary. 

Chazelle  [uneasily].    What  has  he  to  do  with  me? 

Bixiou.  You  '11  find  out ;  do  you  suppose  Baudoyer 
will  overlook  what  happened  just  now  ? 

Fleury.  Another  piece  of  Baudoyer's  spite  !  You  Ve 
a  queer  fellow  to  deal  with  in  there.  Now,  Monsieur 
Rabourdin,  —  there 's  a  man  for  you !  He  put  work  on 
m}^  table  to-da}^  that  3^ou  could  n't  get  through  with  in 
this  office  in  three  days ;  well,  he  expects  to  have  it 
done  by  four  o'clock  to-day.  But  he  is  not  always  at 
m}^  heels  to  hinder  me  from  talking  to  my  friends. 

Baudoyer  [appearing  at  the  door].  Gentlemen,  you 
will  admit  that  if  you  have  the  legal  right  to  find  fault 
with  the  chamber  and  the  administration  you  must  at 
least  do  so  elsewhere  than  in  this  office.  [To  Fleury.] 
What  are  you  doing  here,  monsieur? 

Fleury  [insolently].  I  came  to  tell  these  gentlemen 
that  there  was  to  be  a  general  turn-out.     Du  Bruel  is 


Bureaucracy.  169 

sent  for  to  the  ministry,  and  Dutocq  also.     Everybody 
is  asking  who  will  be  appointed. 

Baudoyer  [retiring].  It  is  not  your  affair,  sir ;  go 
back  to  your  own  oflSce,  and  do  not  disturb  mine. 

Fleury  [in  the  doorway].  It  would  be  a  shameful 
injustice  if  Rabourdin  lost  the  place  ;  I  swear  I  'd  leave 
the  service.  Did  you  find  that  anagram,  papa  Colle- 
ville? 

CoLLEViLLE.     Ycs,  here  it  is. 

Fleury  [leaning  over  CoUeville's  desk].  Capital! 
famous  !  This  is  just  what  will  happen  if  the  adminis- 
tration continues  to  play  the  hypocrite.  [He  makes  a 
sign  to  the  clerks  that  Baudoyer  is  listening.]  If  the 
government  would  frankl}'  state  its  intentions  without 
concealments  of  any  kind,  the  liberals  would  know 
what  they  had  to  deal  with.  An  administration  which 
sets  its  best  friends  against  itself,'  such  men  as  those 
of  the  ''Debats,"  Chateaubriand,  and  Royer-Collard,  is 
only  to  be  pitied ! 

Colleville  [after  consulting  his  colleagues].  Come, 
Fleury,  you're  a  good  fellow,  but  don't  talk  politics 
here  ;  you  don't  know  what  harm  you  may  do  us. 

Fleury  [dryly].  Well,  adieu,  gentlemen ;  I  have  my 
work  to  do  by  four  o'clock. 

While  this  idle  talk  had  been  going  on,  des  Lu- 
peaulx  was  closeted  in  his  oflSce  with  du  Bruel,  where, 
a  little  later,  Dutocq  joined  them.    Des  Lupeaulx  had 


170  Bureaucracy. 

heard  from  his  valet  of  La  Billardiere's  death,  and 
wishing  to  please  the  two  ministers,  he  wanted  an 
obituary  article  to  appear  in  the  evening  papers. 

"  Good  morning,  my  dear  du  Bruel,"  said  the  semi- 
minister  to  the  head-clerk  as  he  entered,  and  not  inviting 
him  to  sit  down.  "You  have  heard  the  news?  La 
Billardiere  is  dead.  The  ministers  were  both  present 
when  he  received  the  last  sacraments.  The  worthy  man 
strongly  recommended  Rabourdin,  saying  he  should  die 
with  less  regret  if  he  could  know  that  his  successor 
were  the  man  who  had  so  constantly  done  his  work. 
Death  is  a  torture  which  makes  a  man  confess  every- 
thing. The  minister  agreed  the  more  readily  because 
his  intention  and  that  of  the  Council  was  to  reward 
Monsieur  Rabourdin's  numerous  services.  In  fact, 
the  Council  of  State  needs  his  experience.  They  say 
that  young  La  Billardiere  is  to  leave  the  division  of  his 
late  father  and  go  to  the  Commission  of  Seals  ;  that 's 
just  the  same  as  if  the  King  had  made  him  a  present 
of  a  hundred  thousand  francs,  —  the  place  can  always 
be  sold.  But  I  know  the  news  will  delight  your  division, 
which  will  thus  get  rid  of  him.  Du  Bruel,  we  must  get 
ten  or  a  dozen  lines  about  the  worthy  late  director  into 
the  papers  ;  his  Excellencj'  will  glance  them  over,  —  he 
reads  the  papers.  Do  you  know  the  particulars  of  old 
La  Billardiere's  life?" 

Du  Bruel  made  a  sign  in  the  negative. 


Bureaucracy.  171 

'*No?"  continued  des  Lupeaulx.  "Well  then;  he 
was  mixed  up  in  the  affairs  of  La  Vendee,  and  he  was 
one  of  the  confidants  of  the  late  King.  Like  Monsieur 
le  Comte  de  Fontaine  he  always  refused  to  hold  com- 
munication with  the  First  Consul.  He  was  a  bit  of  a 
chouan;  born  in  Brittany  of  a  parliamentary  family,  and 
ennobled  by  Louis  XVIII.  How  old  was  he?  never 
mind  about  that ;  just  say  his  loyalty  was  untarnished, 
his  religion  enhghtened,  —  the  poor  old  fellow  hated 
churches  and  never  set  foot  in  one,  but  you  had  better 
make  him  out  a  '  pious  vassal.'  Bring  in,  gracefully, 
that  he  sang  the  song  of  Simeon  at  the  accession  of 
Charles  X.  The  Comte  d'Artois  thought  very  highly 
of  La  Billardiere,  for  he  co-operated  in  the  unfortunate 
affair  of  Quiberon  and  took  the  whole  responsibility  on 
himself.  You  know  about  that,  don't  you  ?  La  Billar- 
diere defended  the  King  in  a  printed  pamphlet  in  reply 
to  an  impudent  history  of  the  Revolution  written  by  a 
journalist ;  you  can  allude  to  his  loyalty  and  devotion. 
But  be  very  careful  what  you  say  ;  weigh  your  words,  so 
that  the  other  newspapers  can't  laugh  at  us  ;  and  bring 
me  the  article  when  you've  written  it.  Were  you  at 
Rabourdin's  yesterday  ?  " 

"Yes,  monseigneur"  said  du  Bruel,  "Ah!  beg 
pardon." 

"  No  harm  done,"  answered  des  Lupeaulx,  laughing. 

"  Madame  Rabourdin  looked  delightfully  handsome," 


172  Bureaucracy. 

added  du  Bruel.  "  There  are  not  two  women  like  her  in 
Paris.  Some  are  as  clever  as  she,  but  there 's  not  one 
so  gracefully  witty.  Many  women  may  be  even  hand- 
somer, but  it  would  be  hard  to  find  one  with  such  variety 
of  beauty.  Madame  Rabourdin  is  far  superior  to  Ma- 
dame Colleville,"  said  the  vaudevillist,  remembering  des 
Lupeaulx's  former  affair.  "  Flavie  owes  what  she  is  to 
the  men  about  her,  whereas  Madame  Rabourdin  is  all 
things  in  herself.  It  is  wonderful  too  what  she  knows  ; 
you  can't  tell  secrets  in  Latin  before  her.  If  I  had  such 
a  wife,  I  know  I  should  succeed  in  everj^thing." 

"You  have  more  mind  than  an  author  ought  to  have," 
returned  des  Lupeaulx,  with  a  conceited  air.  Then  he 
turned  round  and  perceived  Dutocq.  "  Ah,  good- 
morning,  Dutocq,"  he  said.  "I  sent  for  you  to  lend 
me  your  Charlet  —  if^'ou  have  the  whole  complete. 
Madame  la  comtesse  knows  nothing  of  Charlet." 

Du  Bruel  retired. 

''Why  do  3'ou  come  in  without  being  summoned?" 
said  des  Lupeaulx,  harshly,  when  he  and  Dutocq  were 
left  alone.  "  Is  the  State  in  danger  that  you  must  come 
here  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  just  as  I  am  going  to 
breakfast  with  his  Excellency  ?  " 

"Perhaps  it  is,  monsieur,"  said  Dutocq,  dryly.  "If 
I  had  had  the  honor  to  see  you  earlier,  3'ou  would  prob- 
ably not  have  been  so  wiUing  to  support  Monsieur 
Rabourdin,  after  reading  his  opinion  of  you." 


Bureaucracy,  173 

Dutocq  opened  his  coat,  took  a  paper  from  the  left- 
hand  breast-pocket  and  laid  it  on  des  Lupeaulx's  desk, 
pointing  to  a  marked  passage.  Then  he  went  to  the 
door  and  slipped  the  bolt,  fearing  interruption.  While 
he  was  thus  employed,  the  secretary-general  read  the 
opening  sentence  of  the  article,  which  was  as  follows : 

"Monsieur  des  Lupeaulx.  A  government  degrades 
itself  by  openly  employing  such  a  man,  whose  real  vocation 
is  for  police  diplomacy.  He  is  fitted  to  deal  with  the  politi- 
cal filibusters  of  other  cabinets,  and  it  would  be  a  pity  there- 
fore to  employ  him  on  our  internal  detective  police.  He  is 
above  a  common  spy,  for  he  is  able  to  understand  a  plan ; 
he  could  skilfully  carry  through  a  dark  piece  of  work  and 
cover  his  retreat  safely." 

Des  Lupeaulx  was  succinctly  analj^zed  in  five  or  six 
such  paragraphs,  — the  essence,  in  fact,  of  the  biograph- 
ical portrait  which  we  gave  at  the  beginning  of  this 
history.  As  he  read  the  first  words  the  secretary  felt 
that  a  man  stronger  than  himself  sat  in  judgment  on 
him ;  and  he  at  once  resolved  to  examine  the  memo- 
randum, which  evidently  reached  far  and  high,  with- 
out allowing  Dutocq  to  know  his  secret  thoughts.  He 
therefore  showed  a  calm,  grave  face  when  the  spy  re- 
turned to  him.  Des  Lupeaulx,  like  lawyers,  magis- 
trates, diplomatists,  and  all  whose  work  obliges  them 
to  pry  into  the  human  heart,  was  past  being  surprised 


174  Bureaucracy. 

at  anything.  Hardened  in  treachery  and  in  all  the 
tricks  and  wiles  of  hatred,  he  could  take  a  stab  in 
the  back  and  not  let  his  face  tell  of  it. 

' '  How  did  you  get  hold  of  this  paper  ?  " 

Dutocq  related  his  good  luck ;  des  Lupeaulx's  face 
as  he  listened  expressed  no  approbation  ;  and  the  spy 
ended  in  terror  an  account  which  began  triumphantly. 

"  Dutocq,  you  have  put  your  finger  between  the  bark 
and  the  tree,"  said  the  secretary,  coldly.  "  If  you 
don't  want  to  make  powerful  enemies  I  advise  3'ou  to 
keep  this  paper  a  profound  secret ;  it  is  a  work  of  the 
utmost  importance  and  already  well  known  to  me." 

So  saying,  des  Lupeaulx  dismissed  Dutocq  b}^  one  of 
those  glances  that  are  more  expressive  than  words. 

"  Ha !  that  scoundrel  of  a  Rabourdin  has  put  his  fin- 
ger in  this  !  "  thought  Dutocq,  alarmed  on  finding  him- 
self anticipated  ;  "he  has  reached  the  ear  Of  the  admin- 
istration, while  I  am  left  out  in  the  cold.  I  should  n't 
have  thought  it !  " 

To  all  his  other  motives  of  aversion  to  Rabourdin 
he  now  added  the  jealousy  of  one  man  to  another  man 
of  the  same  calling,  —  a  most  powerful  ingredient  in 
hatred. 

When  des  Lupeaulx  was  left  alone,  he  dropped  into 
a  strange  meditation.  What  power  was  it  of  which 
Rabourdin  was  tlie  instrument?  Should  he,  des  Lu- 
peaulx, use  this  singular  document  to  destroy  him,  or 


Bureaucracy.  175 

should  he  keep  it  as  a  weapon  to  succeed  with  the  wife  ? 
The  mj'stery  that  lay  behind  this  paper  was  all  dark- 
ness to  des  Lupeaulx,  who  read  with  something  akin 
to  terror  page  after  page,  in  which  the  men  of  his 
acquaintance  were  judged  with  unerring  wisdom.  He 
admired  Rabourdin,  though  stabbed  to  his  vitals  by 
what  he  said  of  him.  The  breakfast-hour  suddenly  cut 
short  his  meditation. 

"  His  Excellency  is  waiting  for  3'ou  to  come  down,'* 
announced  the  minister's  footman. 

The  minister  always  breakfasted  with  his  wife  and 
children  and  des  Lupeaulx,  without  the  presence  of 
servants.  The  morning  meal  affords  the  only  moment  of 
privac}'  which  public  men  can  snatch  from  the  current 
of  overwhelming  business.  Yet  in  spite  of  the  pre- 
cautions they  take  to  keep  this  hour  for  private  inti- 
macies and  affections,  a  good  many  great  and  little 
people  manage  to  infringe  upon  it.  Business  itself 
will,  as  at  this  moment,  thrust  itself  in  the  way  of 
their  scanty  comfort. 

"  I  thought  Rabourdin  was  a  man  above  all  ordi- 
nary petty  manoeuvres,"  began  the  minister;  "and 
yet  here,  not  ten  minutes  after  La  Billardiere's  death, 
he  sends  me  this  note  b}^  La  Brie  re,  —  it  is  like  a 
stage  missive.  Look,"  said  his  Excellency,  giving  des 
Lupeaulx  a  paper  which  he  was  twirling  in  his  fingers. 

Too   noble  in  mind  to  think  for  a  moment  of  the 


176  Bureaucracy, 

shameful  meaning  La  Billardiere's  death  might  lend 
to  his  letter,  Rabourdin  had  not  withdrawn  it  from 
La  Briere's  hands  after  the  news  reached  him.  Des 
Lupeaulx  read  as  follows  :  — 

"  MoNSEiGNEUR,  —  If  twenty-three  years  of  irreproachable 
services  may  claim  a  favor,  I  entreat  your  Excellency  to 
grant  me  an  audience  this  very  day.  My  honor  is  involved 
in  the  matter  of  which  I  desire  to  speak." 

"  Poor  man  !  "  said  des  Lupeaulx,  in  a  tone  of  com- 
passion which  confirmed  the  minister  in  his  error. 
"We  are  alone;  I  advise  3'ou  to  see  him  now.  You 
have  a  meeting  of  the  Council  when  the  Chamber 
rises ;  moreover,  your  Excellency  has  to  reply  to-day' 
to  the  opposition ;  this  is  really  the  only  hour  when 
you  can  receive  him." 

Des  Lupeaulx  rose,  called  the  servant,  said  a  few 
words,  and  returned  to  his  seat.  "I  have  told  them 
to  bring  him  in  at  dessert,"  he  said. 

Like  all  other  ministers  under  the  Restoration,  this 
particular  minister  was  a  man  without  youth.  The 
charter  granted  by  Louis  XVIII.  had  the  defect  of 
t\'ing  the  hands  of  the  kings  by  compelling  them  to 
deliver  the  destinies  of  the  nation  into  the  control 
of  the  middle-aged  men  of  the  Chamber  and  the  sep- 
tuagenarians of  the  peerage ;  it  robbed  them  of  the 
right  to  lay  hands  on  a  man  of  statesmanlike   talent 


Bureaucracy,  177 

wherever  they  could  find  him,  no  matter  how  young 
he  was  or  how  poverty-stricken  his  condition  might 
be.  Napoleon  alone  was  able  to  employ  young  men 
as  he  chose,  without  being  restrained  by  any  con- 
sideration. After  the  overthrow  of  that  mighty  will, 
vigor  deserted  power.  Now  the  period  when  effemi- 
nacy succeeds  to  vigor  presents  a  contrast  that  is 
far  more  dangerous  in  France  than  in  other  countries. 
As  a  general  thing,  ministers  who  were  old  before 
they  entered  oflSce  have  proved  second  or  third  rate, 
while  tliose  who  were  taken  3'oung  have  been  an 
honor  to  European  monarchies  and  to  the  republics 
whose  affairs  they  have  directed.  The  world  still 
rings  with  the  struggle  between  Pitt  and  Napoleon, 
two  men  who  conducted  the  politics  of  their  respec- 
tive countries  at  an  age  when  Henri  de  Navarre, 
Richelieu,  Mazarin,  Colbert,  Louvois,  the  Prince  of 
Orange,  the  Guises,  Machiavelli,  in  short,  all  the  best 
known  of  our  great  men,  coming  from  the  ranks  or 
born  to  a  throne,  began  to  rule  the  State.  The  Con- 
vention —  that  model  of  energ}-  —  was  made  up  in  a 
great  measure  of  3'oung  heads ;  no  sovereign  can  ever 
forget  that  it  was  able  to  put  fourteen  armies  into  the 
field  against  Europe.  Its  policy,  fatal  in  the  eyes  of 
those  who  cling  to  what  is  called  absolute  power,  was 
nevertheless  dictated  by  strictly  monarchical  principles, 

and  it  behaved  itself  like  any  of  the  great  kings. 

12 


178  Bureaucracy. 

After  ten  or  a  dozen  years  of  parliamentary  strug- 
gle, having  studied  the  science  of  politics  until  he  was 
worn  down  by  it,  this  particular  minister  had  come  to 
be  enthroned  by  his  party,  who  considered  him  in  the 
light  of  their  business  man.  Happily  for  him  he  was 
now  nearer  sixty  than  fift}^  years  of  age ;  had  he  re- 
tained even  a  vestige  of  juvenile  vigor  he  would  quickl}' 
have  quenched  it.  But,  accustomed  to  back  and  fill, 
retreat  and  return  to  the  charge,  he  was  able  to  endure 
being  struck  at,  turn  and  turn  about,  by  his  owai  party, 
by  the  opposition,  by  the  court,  by  the  clergy,  because 
to  all  such  attacks  he  opposed  the  inert  force  of  a 
substance  which  was  equally  soft  and  consistent ;  thus 
he  reaped  the  benefits  of  what  was  reall^^  his  misfor- 
tune. Harassed  by  a  thousand  questions  of  govern- 
ment, his  mind,  like  that  of  an  old  lawyer  who  has 
tried  every  species  of  case,  no  longer  possessed  the 
spring  which  solitary  minds  are  able  to  retain,  nor 
that  power  of  prompt  decision  which  distinguishes 
men  who  are  earl}'  accustomed  to  action,  and  young 
soldiers.  How  could  it  be  otherwise?  He  had  prac- 
tised sophistries  and  quibbled  instead  of  judging ;  he 
had  criticised  eflects  and  done  nothing  for  causes ;  his 
h(;ad  was  full  of  plans  such  as  a  political  party  lays 
upon  the  shoulders  of  a  leader,  —  matters  of  private 
interest  brought  to  an  orator  supposed  to  have  a  future, 
a  jumble  of  schemes  and  impracticable  requests.     Far 


Bureaucracy.  179 

from  coming  fresh  to  his  work,  he  was  wearied  out 
with  marching  and  counter-marching,  and  when  he 
finalk  reached  the  much  desired  height  of  his  present 
position,  he  found  himself  in  a  thicket  of  thorny  bushes 
with  a  thousand  conflicting  wills  to  conciliate.  If  the 
statesmen  of  the  Restoration  had  been  allowed  to  follow 
out  their  own  ideas,  their  capacity  would  doubtless 
have  been  less  criticised ;  but  though  their  wills  were 
often  forced,  their  age  saved  them  from  attempting 
the  resistance  which  youth  opposes  to  intrigues,  both 
high  and  low,  — intrigues  which  vanquished  Richelieu, 
and  to  which,  in  a  lower  sphere,  Rabourdin  was  to 
succumb. 

After  the  rough  and  tumble  of  their  first  struggles  in 
political  life  these  men,  less  old  than  aged,  have  to 
endure  the  additional  wear  and  tear  of  a  ministry. 
Thus  it  is  that  their  eyes  begin  to  weaken  just  as  they 
need  to  have  the  clear-sightedness  of  eagles  ;  their  mind 
is  weary  when  its  youth  and  fire  need  to  be  redoubled. 
The  minister  in  whom  Rabourdin  sought  to  confide  was 
in  the  habit  of  listening  to  men  of  undoubted  superiority 
as  they  explained  ingenious  theories  of  government, 
applicable  or  inapplicable  to  the  affairs  of  France. 
Such  men,  by  whom  the  diflSculties  of  national  polic}^ 
were  never  apprehended,  were  in  the  habit  of  attacking 
this  minister  personally  whenever  a  parhamentary  battle 
or  a  contest  with  the  secret  follies  of  the  court  took 


180  Bureaucracy. 

place,  —  on  the  eve  of  a  struggle  with  the  popular  mind, 
or  on  the  morrow  of  a  diplomatic  discussion  which  divi- 
ded the  Council  into  three  separate  parties.  Caught 
in  such  a  predicament,  a  statesman  naturally  keeps  a 
yawn  ready  for  the  first  sentence  designed  to  show  him 
how  the  public  service  could  be  better  managed.  At 
such  periods  not  a  dinner  took  place  among  bold 
schemers  or  financial  and  political  lobbyists  where  the 
opinions  of  the  Bourse  and  the  Bank,  the  secrets  of 
diplomacy,  and  the  policy  necessitated  by  the  state  of 
affairs  in  Europe  were  not  canvassed  and  discussed. 
The  minister  had  his  own  private  councillors  in  des 
Lupeaulx  and  his  secretary,  who  collected  and  pondered 
all  opinions  and  discussions  for  the  purpose  of  analyzing 
and  controlling  the  various  interests  proclaimed  and 
supported  by  so  many  clever  men.  In  fact,  his  misfor- 
tune was  that  of  most  other  ministers  who  have  passed 
the  prime  of  life  ;  he  trimmed  and  shuffled  under  all  his 
difficulties, — with  journalism,  which  at  this  period  it 
was  thought  advisable  to  repress  in  an  underhand  way 
rather  than  fight  openly  ;  with  financial  as  well  as  labor 
questions ;  with  the  clergy  as  with  that  other  question 
of  the  public  lands  ;  with  liberalism  as  with  the  Cham- 
ber. After  manoeuvring  his  way  to  power  in  the  course 
of  seven  years,  the  minister  believed  that  he  could 
manage  all  questions  of  administration  in  the  same  way. 
It  is  so  natural  to  think  we  can  maintain  a  position  by 


Bureaucracy,  181 

the  same  methods  which  served  us  to  reach  it  that  no  one 
ventured  to  blame  a  system  invented  by  mediocrity  to 
please  minds  of  its  own  calibre.  The  Restoration,  like 
the  Polish  revolution,  proved  to  nations  as  to  princes 
the  true  value  of  a  Man,  and  what  will  happen  if  that 
necessary  man  is  wanting.  The  last  and  the  greatest 
weakness  of  the  public  men  of  the  Restoration  was  their 
honest}",  in  a  struggle  in  which  their  adversaries  em- 
ployed the  resources  of  political  dishonesty,  lies,  and 
calumnies,  and  let  loose  upon  them,  by  all  subversive 
means,  the  clamor  of  the  unintelligent  masses,  able  only 
to  understand  revolt. 

Rabourdin  told  himself  these  things.  But  he  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  win  or  lose,  like  a  man  weary  of 
gambling  who  allows  himself  a  last  stake ;  ill-luck  had 
given  him  as  adversary  in  the  game  a  sharper  like  des 
Lupeaulx.  With  all  his  sagacity,  Rabourdin  was  better 
versed  in  matters  of  administration  than  in  parliamen- 
tary optics,  and  he  was  far  indeed  from  imagining  how 
his  confidence  would  be  received  ;  he  little  thought  that 
the  great  work  that  filled  his  mind  would  seem  to  the 
minister  nothing  more  than  a  theory,  and  that  a  man 
who  held  the  position  of  a  statesman  would  confound 
his  reform  with  the  schemes  of  political  and  self-inter- 
ested talkers. 

As  the  minister  rose  from  table,  thinking  of  Francois 
Keller,  his  wife  detained  him  with  the  offer  of  a  bunch 


182  Bureaucracy. 

of  grapes,  and  at  that  moment  Rabourdin  was  an- 
nounced. Des  Lupeaulx  had  counted  on  the  minister's 
preoccupation  and  his  desire  to  get  away ;  seeing  hira 
for  the  moment  occupied  with  his  wife,  the  general- sec- 
retary went  forward  to  meet  Rabourdin  ;  whom  he  petri- 
fied with  his  first  words,  said  in  a  low  tone  of  voice  :  — 

"  His  Excellency  and  I  know  what  the  subject  is  that 
occupies  3'our  mind  ;  you  have  nothing  to  fear ; "  then, 
raising  his  voice,  he  added,  "  neither  from  Dutocq  nor 
from  any  one  else." 

*'  Don't  feel  uneas}^,  Rabourdin,"  said  his  Excellency, 
kindl}^,  but  making  a  movement  to  get  away. 

Rabourdin  came  forward  respectfully,  and  the  min- 
ister could  not  evade  him. 

"  Will  5'our  Excellency  permit  me  to  see  you  for  a 
moment  in  private? "  he  said,  with  a  mysterious  glance. 

The  minister  looked  at  the  clock  and  went  towards 
the  window,  whither  the  poor  man  followed  him. 

"  When  may  I  have  the  honor  of  submitting  the 
matter  of  which  I  spoke  to  3'Our  Excellency?  I  desire 
to  fully  explain  the  plan  of  administration  to  which  the 
paper  that  was  taken  belongs  — " 

"Plan  of  administration!"  exclaimed  the  minister, 
frowning,  and  hurriedly  interrupting  him.  "  If  3'ou 
have  anything  of  that  kind  to  communicate  you  must 
wait  for  the  regular  day  when  we  do  business  together. 
I  ought  to  be  at  the  Council  now ;  and  I  have  an  answer 


Bureaucracy,  183 

to  make  to  the  Chamber  on  that  point  which  the  oppo- 
sition raised  before  the  session  ended  yesterday.  Your 
day  is  Wednesda}-  next ;  I  could  not  work  yesterdaj^, 
for  I  had  other  things  to  attend  to ;  political  matters 
are  apt  to  interfere  with  purely  administrative  ones." 

*'  I  place  my  honor  with  all  confidence  in  your  Ex- 
cellency's hands,"  said  Rabourdin  gravely,  "  and  I 
entreat  you  to  remember  that  you  have  not  allowed  me 
time  to  give  you  an  immediate  explanation  of  the  stolen 
paper  —  " 

*'  Don't  be  uneasy,"  said  des  Lupeaulx,  interposing 
between  the  minister  and  Rabourdin,  whom  he  thus  in- 
terrupted; "in  another  week  you  will  probably  be  ap- 
pointed —  " 

The  minister  smiled  as  he  thought  of  des  Lupeaulx's 
enthusiasm  for  Madame  Rabourdin,  and  he  glanced 
knowingly  at  his  wife.  Rabourdin  saw  the  look,  and 
tried  to  imagine  its  meaning  ;  his  attention  was  diverted 
for  a  moment,  and  his  Excellency  took  advantage  of  the 
fact  to  make  his  escape. 

"We  will  talk  of  all  this,  3^ou  and  I,"  said  des  Lu- 
peaulx, with  whom  Rabourdin,  much  to  his  surprise, 
now  found  himself  alone.  "  Don't  be  angry  with  Du- 
tocq  ;  I  '11  answer  for  his  discretion." 

"  Madame  Rabourdin  is  charming,"  said  the  minis- 
ter's wife,  wishing  to  say  the  civil  thing  to  the  head  of 
a  bureau. 


184  Bureaucracy. 

The  children  all  gazed  at  Rabourdin  with  curiosity. 
The  poor  man  had  come  there  expecting  some  serious, 
even  solemn,  result,  and  he  was  like  a  great  fish  caught 
in  the  threads  of  a  flimsy  net ;  he  struggled  with  himself. 

"  Madame  la  comtesse  is  very  good,"  he  said. 

"  Shall  I  not  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Madame 
here  some  Wednesday?"  said  the  countess.  "Pray 
bring  her;  it  will  give  me  pleasure." 

"Madame  Rabourdin  herself  receives  on  Wednes- 
days," interrupted  des  Lupeaulx,  who  knew  the  empty 
civility  of  an  invitation  to  the  official  Wednesdays ; 
"  but  since  yon  are  so  kind  as  to  wish  for  her,  3'ou  will 
soon  give  one  of  your  private  parties,  and  —  " 

The  countess  rose  with  some  irritation. 

"  You  are  the  master  of  my  ceremonies,"  she  said  to 
des  Lupeaulx,  —  ambiguous  words,  by  which  she  ex- 
pressed the  anno^-ance  she  felt  with  the  secretary  for 
presuming  to  interfere  with  her  private  parties,  to  which 
she  admitted  only  a  select  few.  She  left  the  room  with- 
out bowing  to  Rabourdin,  who  remained  alone  with  des 
Lupeaulx  ;  the  latter  was  twisting  in  his  fingers  the  con- 
fidential letter  to  the  minister  which  Rabourdin  had  in- 
trusted to  La  Briere.     Rabourdin  recognized  it. 

"You  have  never  really  known  me,"  said  des  Lu- 
peaulx. "Friday  evening  we  will  come  to  a  full  un- 
derstanding. Just  now  I  must  go  and  receive  callers ; 
his  Excellency  saddles  me  with  that  burden  when  he  has 


Bureaucracy.  185 

other  matters  to  attend  to.  But  I  repeat,  Rabourdin, 
don't  worry  j^ourself ;  3'ou  have  nothing  to  fear." 

Rabourdin  walked  slowly  through  the  corridors, 
amazed  and  confounded  by  this  singular  turn  of  events. 
He  had  expected  Dutocq  to  denounce  him,  and  found  he 
had  not  been  mistaken  ;  des  Lupeaulx  certainly  had  seen 
the  document  which  judged  him  so  severely,  and  yet 
des  Lupeaulx  was  fawning  on  his  judge !  It  was  all 
incomprehensible.  Men  of  upright  minds  are  often  at 
a  loss  to  understand  complicated  intrigueS;  and  Rabour- 
din was  lost  in  a  maze  of  conjecture  without  being  able 
to  discover  the  object  of  the  game  which  the  secretary 
was  playing. 

"  Either  he  has  not  read  the  part  about  himself,  or 
he  loves  my  wife." 

Such  were  the  two  thoughts  to  which  his  mind  arrived 
as  he  crossed  the  courtyard ;  for  the  glance  he  had  in- 
tercepted the  night  before  between  des  Lupeaulx  and 
Celestine  came  back  to  memory  like  a  flash  of  lightning. 


186  Bureaucracy. 


VI. 

THE    WORMS    AT    WORK. 

Raboukdin's  bureau  was  during  his  absence  a  prey 
to  the  keenest  excitement ;  for  the  relation  between  the 
head  officials  and  the  clerks  in  a  government  office  is 
so  regulated  that,  when  a  minister's  messenger  sum- 
mons the  head  of  a  bureau  to  his  Excellencj-'s  presence 
(above  all  at  the  latter's  breakfast  hour),  there  is  no 
end  to  the  comments  that  are  made.  The  fact  that  the 
present  unusual  summons  followed  so  closely  on  the 
death  of  Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere  seemed  to  give 
special  importance  to  the  circumstance,  which  was  made 
known  to  Monsieur  Saillard,  who  came  at  once  to  confer 
with  Baudoj'er.  Bixiou,  who  happened  at  the  moment  to 
be  at  work  with  the  latter,  left  him  to  converse  with  his 
father-in-law  and  betook  himself  to  the  bureau  Rabour- 
din,  where  the  usual  routine  was  of  course  interrupted. 

Bixiou  [entering].  I  thought  I  should  find  3'ou  at  a 
white  heat!  Don't  j^ou  know  what's  going  on  down 
below  ?  The  virtuous  woman  is  done  for !  yes,  done 
for,  crushed  !     Terrible  scene  at  the  ministry ! 

DuTOCQ  [looking  fixedly  at  him].  Are  you  telling 
the  truth? 


Bureaucracy.  187 

Bixiou.  Pray  who  would  regret  it?  Not  you,  cer- 
tainly, for  you  will  be  made  under-head-clerk  and  du 
Bruel  head  of  the  bureau.  Monsieur  Baudojxr  gets 
the  division. 

Fleury.  I'll  bet  a  hundred  francs  that  Baudoyer 
will  never  be  head  of  the  division. 

ViMEux.  I'll  join  in  the  bet;  will  you,  Monsieur 
Poiret? 

PoiRET.     I  retire  in  January. 

Bixiou.  Is  it  possible?  are  we  to  lose  the  sight  of 
those  shoe-ties?  What  will  the  ministry  be  without 
5^ou?    Will  nobody  take  up  the  bet  on  my  side? 

DuTOCQ.  I  can't,  for  I  know  the  facts.  Monsieur 
Rabourdin  is  appointed.  Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere 
requested  it  of  the  two  ministers  on  his  death-bed, 
blaming  himself  for  having  taken  the  emoluments  of  an 
office  of  which  Rabourdin  did  all  the  work  ;  he  felt  remorse 
of  conscience,  and  the  ministers,  to  quiet  him,  promised 
to  appoint  Rabourdin  unless  higher  powers  intervened. 

Bixiou.  Gentlemen,  are  you  all  against  me?  seven 
to  one,  —  for  I  know  which  side  jo\x  '11  take,  Monsieur 
Phellion.  Well,  I  '11  bet  a  dinner  costing  five  hundred 
francs  at  the  Rocher  de  Cancale  that  Rabourdin  does 
not  get  La  Billardiere's  place.  That  will  cost  you  only 
a  hundred  francs  each,  and  I'm  risking  five  hundred, — 
five  to  one  against  me  !  Do  you  take  it  up  ?  [Shout- 
ing into  the  next  room.]     Du  Bruel,  what  say  you? 


188  Bureaucracy, 

Phellion  [laying  down  his  pen].  Monsieur,  may 
I  ask  on  what  you  base  that  contingent  proposal?  — 
for  contingent  it  is.  But  stay,  I  am  wrong  to  call  it  a 
proposal ;  I  should  say  contract.  A  wager  constitutes 
a  contract. 

Fleury.  No,  no  ;  you  can  only  apply  the  word  "  con- 
tract "  to  agreements  that  are  recognized  in  the  Code. 
Now  the  Code  allows  of  no  action  for  the  recovery  of 
a  bet. 

DuTOCQ.     Proscribe  a  thing  and  you  recognize  it. 

Bixiou.     Good  !  my  little  man. 

PoiRET.     Dear  me ! 

Fleury.  True  !  when  one  refuses  to  pay  one's  debts 
that 's  recognizing  them. 

Thutllier.     You  would  make  famous  lawyers. 

PoiRET.  I  am  as  curious  as  Monsieur  Phellion  to 
know  what  grounds  Monsieur  Bixiou  has  for  — 

Bixiou  [shouting  across  the  office] .  Du  Bruel !  Will 
you  bet? 

Du  Bruel  [appearing  at  the  door].  Heavens  and 
earth,  gentlemen,  I'm  very  busy;  I  have  something 
very  difficult  to  do;  I've  got  to  write  an  obituary 
notice  of  Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere.  I  do  beg  you.  to 
be  quiet ;  you  can  laugh  and  bet  afterwards. 

Bixiou.  That 's  true,  du  Bruel ;  the  praise  of  an 
honest  man  is  a  very  difficult  thing  to  write.  I  'd  rather 
any  day  draw  a  caricature  of  him. 


Bureaucracy.  189 

Du  Bruel.     Do  come  and  help  me,  Bixiou. 

Bixiou  [following  him] .  I'm  willing  ;  though  I  can 
do  such  things  much  better  when  eating. 

Du  Bruel.  Well,  we  will  go  and  dine  together  after- 
wards. But  listen,  this  is  what  I  have  written  [reads]  : 
*'The  Church  and  the  Monarchy  are  daily  losing  many 
of  those  who  fought  for  them  in  Revolutionary  times." 

Bixiou.  Bad,  very  bad  ;  why  don't  3'ou  say,  ' '  Death 
carries  on  its  ravages  among  the  few  surviving  defend- 
ers of  the  monarchy  and  the  old  and  faithful  servants 
of  the  King,  whose  heart  bleeds  under  these  reiterated 
blows?  [Du  Bruel  writes  rapidl}'.]  Monsieur  le  Baron 
Flamet  de  la  Billardiere  died  this  morning  of  dropsy, 
caused  by  heart  disease."  You  see,  it  is  just  as  well 
to  show  there  are  hearts  in  government  offices ;  and 
you  ought  to  slip  in  a  little  flummer}^  about  the  emo- 
tions of  the  Roj'alists  during  the  Terror,  —  might  be 
useful,  hey !  But  stay,  —  no !  the  petty  papers  would 
be  sure  to  sa}^  the  emotions  came  more  from  the 
stomach  than  the  heart.  Better  leave  that  out.  What 
are  you  writing  now? 

Du  Bruel  [reading].  "  Issuing  from  an  old  par- 
liamentary stock  in  which  devotion  to  the  throne  was 
hereditar}',  as  was  also  attachment  to  the  faith  of  our 
fathers,  Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere  — " 

Bixiou.  Better  say  Monsieur  le  Baron  de  la  Bil- 
lardiere. 


190  Bureaucracy, 

Du  Bruel.     But  he  was  n't  baron  in  1793. 

Bixiou.  No  matter.  Don't  you  remember  that  under 
the  Empire  Fouche  was  telling  an  anecdote  about  the 
Convention,  in  which  he  had  to  quote  Robespierre,  and 
he  said,  "  Robespierre  called  out  to  me, '  Due  d'Otrante, 
go  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville.'"  There's  a  precedent  for 
3'ou ! 

Du  Bruel.  Let  me  just  write  that  down  ;  I  can  use  it 
in  a  vaudeville.  — But  to  go  back  to  what  we  were  say- 
ing. I  don't  want  to  put  "  Monsieur  le  baron,"  because 
I  am  reserving  his  honors  till  the  last,  when  they  rained 
upon  him. 

Bixiou.  Oh !  ver}'  good  ;  that 's  theatrical,  —  the 
finale  of  the  article. 

Du  Bruel  [continuing].  "  In  appointing  Monsieur 
de  la  Billardiere  gentleman-in-ordinary  —  " 

Bixiou.     Veiy  ordinary ! 

Du  Bruel.  "  —  of  the  Bedchamber,  the  King  re- 
warded not  only  the  services  rendered  b}'  the  Provost, 
who  knew  how  to  harmonize  the  severity  of  his  functions 
with  the  customar}^  urbanitj^  of  the  Bourbons,  but  the 
bravery  of  the  Vendean  hero,  who  never  bent  the  knee 
to  the  imperial  idol.  He  leaves  a  son,  who  inherits 
his  loyalty  and  his  talents." 

Bixiou.  Don't  \o\x  think  all  that  is  a  little  too  florid? 
I  should  tone  down  the  poetry.  ' '  Imperial  idol ! "  "  bent 
the  knee  !  "  damn  it,  m}^  dear  fellow,  writing  vaudevilles 


Bureaucracy,  191 

has  ruined  your  style ;  you  can't  come  down  to  pedes- 
trian prose.  I  sliould  say,  "  He  belonged  to  the  small 
number  of  those  who."  Simplif}^,  simplify !  the  man 
himself  was  a  simpleton. 

Du  Bruel.  That 's  vaudeville,  if  you  like !  You 
would  make  your  fortune  at  the  theatre,  Bixiou." 

Bixiou.  What  have  you  said  about  Quiberon  ?  [Reads 
over  du  Bruel's  shoulder.]  Oh,  that  won't  do !  Here, 
this  is  what  you  must  say :  ' '  He  took  upon  himself, 
in  a  book  recently  published,  the  responsibility  for  all 
the  blunders  of  the  expedition  to  Quiberon,  —  thus  prov- 
ing the  nature  of  his  loyalty,  which  did  not  shrink  from 
an}^  sacrifice."  That 's  clever  and  witty,  and  exalts 
La  Billardiere. 

Du  Bruel.     At  whose  expense  ? 

Bixiou  [solemn  as  a  priest  in  a  pulpit].  Wh}^,  Hoche 
and  Tallien,  of  course  ;  don't  you  read  history  ? 

Du  Bruel.  No.  I  subscribed  to  the  Baudouin 
series,  but  I  've  never  had  time  to  open  a  volume  ;  one 
can't  find  matter  for  vaudevilles  there. 

Phellion  [at  the  door].  We  all  want  to  know,  Mon- 
sieur Bixiou,  what  made  you  think  that  the  worth}^  and 
honorable  Monsieur  Rabourdin,  who  has  so  long  done 
the  work  of  this  division  for  Monsieur  de  la  Billar- 
diere, —  he,  who  is  the  senior  head  of  all  the  bureaus, 
and  whom,  moreover,  the  minister  summoned  as  soon 
as   he   heard  of  the  departure  of  the  late  Monsieur 


192  Bureaucracy, 

de  la  Billardiere,  —  will  not  be  appointed  head  of  the 
division. 

Bixiou.     Papa  Phellion,  you  know  geography? 

Phellion  [bridling  up] .     I  should  say  so ! 

Bixiou.     And  history  ? 

Phellion  [affecting  modesty].    Possibly. 

Bixiou  [looking  fixedly  at  him].  Your  diamond 
pin  is  loose,  it  is  coming  out.  Well,  you  may  know  all 
that,  but  you  don't  know  the  human  heart ;  you  have 
gone  no  further  in  the  geography  and  history  of  that 
organ  than  you  have  in  the  environs  of  the  cit}-  of 
Paris. 

PoiRET  [to  Vimeux].  Environs  of  Paris  ?  I  thought 
they  were  talking  of  Monsieur  Rabourdin. 

Bixiou.  About  that  bet?  Does  the  entire  bureau 
Rabourdin  bet  against  me? 

All.     Yes. 

Bixiou.     Du  Bruel,  do  you  count  in? 

Du  Bruel.  Of  course  I  do.  We  want  Rabourdin 
to  go  up  a  step  and  make  room  for  others. 

Bixiou.  Well,  I  accept  the  bet,  —  for  this  reason ; 
3'ou  can  hardly  understand  it,  but  I  '11  tell  it  to  you  all 
the  same.  It  would  be  right  and  just  to  appoint  Mon- 
sieur Rabourdin  (looking  full  at  Dutocq),  because,  in 
that  case,  long  and  faithful  service,  honor,  and  talent 
would  be  recognized,  appreciated,  and  properlj^  re- 
warded.    Such  an  appointment  is  in  the  best  interests 


Bureaucracy.  193 

of  the  administration.  [Phellion,  Poiret,  and  Thuillier 
listen  stupidly,  with  the  look  of  those  who  trj-  to  peer 
before  them  in  the  darkness.]  Well,  it  is  just  because 
the  promotion  would  be  so  fitting,  and  because  the  man 
has  such  merit,  and  because  the  measure  is  so  emi- 
nently wise  and  equitable  that  I  bet  Rabourdin  will  not 
be  appointed.  Yes,  you'll  see,  that  appointment  will 
slip  up,  just  like  the  invasion  from  Boulogne,  and  the 
march  to  Russia,  for  the  success  of  which  a  great  genius 
had  gathered  together  all  the  chances.  It  will  fail  as 
all  good  and  just  things  do  fail  in  this  low  world.  I 
am  only  backing  the  devil's  game. 

Du  Bruel.     Who  do  j'ou  think  will  be  appointed  ? 

Bixiou.  The  more  I  think  about  Baudoyer  the  more 
sure  I  feel  that  he  unites  all  the  opposite  qualities  ;  there- 
fore I  think  he  will  be  the  next  head  of  this  division. 

DuTOCQ.  But  Monsieur  des  Lupeaulx,  who  sent  for 
me  to  borrow  my  Charlet,  told  me  positively  that  Mon- 
sieur Rabourdin  was  appointed,  and  that  the  little  La 
Billardiere  would  be  made  Clerk  of  the  Seals. 

Bixiou.    Appointed,  indeed  I    The  appointment  can't 

be  made  and  signed  under  ten  days.     It  will  certainl}^ 

not  be  known  before  New-year's  day.     There  he  goes 

now  across  the  courtyard ;  look  at  him,  and  say  if  the 

virtuous  Rabourdin  looks  like  a  man  in  the  sunshine  of 

favor.    I  should  say  he  knows  he 's  dismissed.    [Fleury 

rushes  to  the  window.]    Gentlemen,  adieu  ;  I  'U  go  and 

13 


194  Bureaucracy. 

tell  Monsieur  Baudoyer  that  I  hear  from  you  that  Ra- 
bourdin  is  appointed;  it  will  make  him  furious,  the 
pious  creature  !  Then  I  '11  tell  him  of  our  wager,  to  cool 
him  down,  —  a  process  we  call  at  the  theatre  turning 
the  Wheel  of  Fortune,  don't  we,  du  Bruel?  Why  do  I 
care  who  gets  the  place?  simply  because  if  Baudoyer 
does  he  will  make  me  under-head-clerk  [goes  out] . 

PoiRET.  Everybody  says  that  man  is  clever,  but  as 
for  me,  I  never  can  understand  a  word  he  says  [goes 
on  copying].  I  Hsten  and  listen ;  I  hear  words,  but  I 
never  get  at  any  meaning  ;  he  talks  about  the  environs 
of  Paris  when  he  discusses  the  human  heart  and  [lays 
down  his  pen  and  goes  to  the  stove]  declares  he  backs 
the  devil's  game  when  it  is  a  question  of  Russia  and 
Boulogne  ;  now  what  is  there  so  clever  in  that,  I  'd  like 
to  know  ?  We  must  first  admit  that  the  devil  plays  an}' 
game  at  all,  and  then  find  out  what  game;  possibly 
dominoes  [blows  his  nose]. 

Fleury  [interrupting].  Pere  Poiret  is  blowing  his 
nose ;  it  must  be  eleven  o'clock. 

Du  Bruel.  So  it  is  !  Goodness  !  I  'm  ofl!"  to  the  sec- 
retary ;  he  wants  to  read  the  obituary. 

PoiRET.     What  was  I  saying? 

Thuillier.  Dominoes,  —  perhaps  the  devil  plays 
dominoes.  [Sebastien  enters  to  gather  up  the  differ- 
ent papers  and  circulars  for  signature.] 

ViMEUX.     Ah!  there  you  are,  my  fine  3'oung  man. 


Bureaucracy.  195 

Tour  days  of  hardship  are  nearly  over ;  you  '11  get  a 
post.  Monsieur  Rabourdin  will  be  appointed.  Were  n't 
you  at  Madame  Rabourdin's  last  night  ?  Lucky  fellow  ! 
they  say  that  reall}'  superb  women  go  there. 

Sebastien.     Do  the}'?    I  did  n't  know. 

Fleury.     Are  you  blind  ? 

Sebastien.  I  don't  like  to  look  at  what  I  ought  not 
to  see. 

Phellion  [dehghted].     Well  said,  young  man  ! 

ViMEux.  The  devil!  well,  you  looked  at  Madame 
Rabourdin  enough,  any  how  ;  a  charming  woman. 

Fleuey.  Pooh!  thin  as  a  rail.  I  saw  her  in  the 
Tuileries,  and  I  much  prefer  Percilliee,  the  ballet- 
mistress,  Castaing's  victim. 

Phellion.  What  has  an  actress  to  do  with  the  wife 
of  a  government  official? 

DuTOCQ.     They  both  play  comedy. 

Fleury  [looking  askance  at  Dutocq].  The  physical 
has  nothing  to  do  with  the  moral,  and  if  3'ou  mean  — 

DuTocQ.     I  mean  nothing. 

Fleury.  Do  you  all  want  to  know  which  of  us  will 
really  be  made  head  of  this  bureau? 

All.     Yes,  tell  us. 

Fleurt.     Colleville. 

Thuillier.     Why  ? 

Fleury.  Because  Madame  Colleville  has  taken  the 
shortest  way  to  it  —  through  the  sacristy. 


196  Bureaucracy. 

Thuillier.  I  am  too  much  Colleville's  friend  not  to 
beg  jou,  Monsieur  Fleury,  to  speak  respectfully  of  his 
wife. 

Phellion.  Defenceless  woman  should  never  be  made 
the  subject  of  conversation  here  — 

ViMEux.  All  the  more  because  the  charming  Ma- 
dame Colleville  won't  invite  Fleury  to  her  house.  He 
backbites  her  in  revenge.  • 

Fleury.  She  may  not  receive  me  on  the  same  foot- 
ing that  she  does  Thuillier,  but  I  go  there  — 

Thuillier.     When  ?  how  ?  —  under  her  windows  ? 

Though  Fleury  was  dreaded  as  a  bully  in  all  the 
offices,  he  received  Thuillier's  speech  in  silence.  This 
meekness,  which  surprised  the  other  clerks,  was  owing 
to  a  certain  note  for  two  hundred  francs,  of  doubtful 
value,  which  Thuillier  agreed  to  pass  over  to  his  sister. 
After  this  skirmish  dead  silence  prevailed.  They  all 
wrote  steadily  from  one  to  three  o'clock.  Du  Bruel  did 
not  return. 

About  half-past  three  the  usual  preparations  for  de- 
parture,  the  brushing  of  hats,  the  changing  of  coats, 
went  on  in  all  the  ministerial  offices.  That  precious 
thirty  minutes  thus  employed  served  to  shorten  by  just 
so  much  the  day's  labor.  At  this  hour  the  over-heated 
rooms  cool  off ;  the  peculiar  odor  that  hangs  about  the 
bureaus  evaporates  ;  silence  is  restored.    By  four  o'clock 


Bureaucracy,  197 

none  but  a  few  clerks  who  do  their  duty  conscientiously 
remain.  A  minister  may  know  who  are  the  real  workers 
under  him  if  he  will  take  the  trouble  to  walk  through 
the  divisions  after  four  o'clock,  —  a  species  of  prying, 
however,  that  no  one  of  his  dignit}^  would  condescend  to. 

The  various  heads  of  divisions  and  bureaus  usually 
encountered  each  other  in  the  courtyards  at  this  hour 
and  exchanged  opinions  on  the  events  of  the  day.  On 
this  occasion  they  departed  by  tw^os  and  threes,  most  of 
them  agreeing  in  favor  of  Rabourdin ;  while  the  old 
stagers,  like  Monsieur  Clergeot,  shook  their  heads  and 
said,  Hdbeni  sua  sidera  lites.  Saillard  and  Baudoyer 
were  politely  avoided,  for  nobody  knew  what  to  say  to 
them  about  La  Billardiere's  death,  it  being  fully  under- 
stood that  Baudoyer  wanted  the  place,  though  it  was 
certainly  not  due  to  him. 

When  Saillard  and  his  son-in-law  had  gone  a  certain 
distance  from  the  ministry  the  former  broke  silence  and 
said :  *'  Things  look  badly  for  you,  my  poor  Baudoyer." 

"  I  can't  understand,"  replied  the  other,  "  what  Elisa- 
beth was  dreaming  of  when  she  sent  Godard  in  such  a 
hurry  to  get  a  passport  for  Falleix ;  Godard  tells  me  she 
hired  a  post-chaise  by  the  advice  of  my  uncle  Mitral,  and 
that  Falleix  has  already  started  for  his  own  part  of  the 
country." 

"Some  matter  connected  with  our  business,"  sug- 
gested Saillard. 


198  Bureaucracy, 

"  Our  most  pressing  business  just  now  is  to  look 
after  Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere's  place,"  returned  Bau- 
doyer,  crossly. 

They  were  just  then  near  the  entrance  of  the  Palais- 
Royal  on  the  rue  Saint-Honore.  Dutocq  came  up, 
bowing,  and  joined  them. 

''  Monsieur,"  he  said  to  Baudoyer,  ''  if  I  can  be  use- 
ful to  you  in  an}^  way  under  the  circumstances  in  which 
you  find  yourself,  pray  command  me,  for  I  am  not  less 
devoted  to  your  interests  than  Monsieur  Godard." 

"  Such  an  assurance  is  at  least  consoling,"  replied 
Baudo3'er;  "  it  makes  me  aware  that  I  have  the  confi- 
dence of  honest  men." 

"If  you  would  kindly  employ  your  influence  to  get 
me  placed  in  your  division,  taking  Bixiou  as  head  of 
the  bureau  and  me  as  under-head-clerk,  you  will  secure 
the  future  of  two  men  who  are  ready  to  do  anything  for 
your  advancement." 

"  Are  you  making  fun  of  us,  monsieur?  "  asked  Sail- 
lard,  staring  at  him  stupidly. 

"  Far  be  it  from  me  to  do  that,"  said  Dutocq.  "  I 
have  just  come  from  the  printing-office  of  the  ministerial 
journal  (where  I  carried  from  the  general-secretary  an 
obituary  notice  of  Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere),  and  I 
there  read  an  article  which  will  appear  to-night  about 
you,  which  has  given  me  the  highest  opinion  of  your 
character  and   talents.     If  it  is    necessary  to   crush 


Bureaucracy.  199 

Rabonrdin  I  'm  in  a  position  to  give  him  the  final  blow ; 
please  to  remember  that." 

Dutocq  disappeared. 

"  May  I  be  shot  if  I  understand  a  single  word  of  it," 
said  Saillard,  looking  at  Baudoyer,  whose  little  eyes 
were  expressive  of  stupid  bewilderment.  "  I  must  buy 
the  newspaper  to-night." 

When  the  two  reached  home  and  entered  the  salon  on 
the  ground-floor,  they  found  a  large  fire  lighted,  and 
Madame  Saillard,  Elisabeth,  Monsieur  Gaudron  and 
the  curate  of  Saint-Paul's  sitting  by  it.  The  curate 
turned  at  once  to  Monsieur  Baudoj^er,  to  whom  Elisa- 
beth made  a  sign  which  he  failed  to  understand. 

''Monsieur,"  said  the  curate,  "I  have  lost  no  time 
in  coming  in  person  to  thank  you  for  the  magnificent 
gift  with  which  you  have  adorned  mv  poor  church.  I 
dared  not  run  in  debt  to  buy  that  beautiful  monstrance, 
worthy  of  a  cathedral.  You,  who  are  one  of  our  most 
pious  and  faithful  parishioners,  must  have  keenty  felt 
the  bareness  of  the  high  altar.  I  am  on  my  way  to 
see  Monseigneur  the  coadjutor,  and  he  will,  I  am  sure, 
send  you  his  own  thanks  later." 

"  I  have  done  nothing  as  yet  —  "  began  Baudoyer. 

"  Monsieur  le  cure,"  interposed  his  wife,  cutting  him 
short.  "  I  see  I  am  forced  to  betra}^  the  whole  secret. 
Monsieur  Baudoyer  hopes  to  complete  the  gift  b}'  send- 
ing 3^ou  a  dais  for  the  coming  Fete-Dieu.     But  the  pur- 


200  Bureaucracy. 

chase  must  depend  on  the  state  of  our  finances,  and  our 
finances  depend  on  m}^  husband's  promotion." 

'^  God  will  reward  those  who  honor  him,"  said  Mon- 
sieur Gaudron,  preparing,  with  the  curate,  to  take 
leave. 

"  But  will  you  not,"  said  Saillard  to  the  two  ecclesi- 
astics, "  do  us  the  honor  to  take  pot  luck  with  us?" 

''You  can  stay,  my  dear  vicar,"  said  the  curate 
to  Gaudron ;  ' '  you  know  I  am  engaged  to  dine  with 
the  curate  of  Saint-Roch,  who,  b}^  the  bye,  is  to  bur}^ 
Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere  to-morrow." 

"  Monsieur  le  cure  de  Saint-Roch  might  say  a  word 
for  us,"  began  Baudoyer.  His  wife  pulled  the  skirt 
of  his  coat  violently. 

"  Do  hold  your  tongue,  Baudoyer,"  she  said,  lead- 
ing him  aside  and  whispering  in  his  ear.  "  You  have 
given  a  monstrance  to  the  church,  that  cost  five  thou- 
sand francs.     I  '11  explain  it  all  later." 

The  miserly  Baudoyer  made  a  sulk}^  grimace,  and 
continued  gloomy  and  cross  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

''What  did  3^ou  busy  yourself  about  Falleix's  pass- 
port for?  Why  do  you  meddle  in  other  people's 
affairs  ?  "  he  presently  asked  her. 

"I  must  say,  I  think  Falleix's  affairs  are  as  much 
ours  as  his,"  returned  Elisabeth,  dryh^,  glancing  at  her 
husband  to  make  him  notice  Monsieur  Gaudron,  before 
whom  he  ought  to  be  silent. 


Bureaucracy.  201 

"  Certainl}",  certainly,"  said  old  Saillard,  thinking 
of  his  co-partnership. 

"  I  hope  you  reached  the  newspaper  office  in  time?" 
remarked  Elisabeth  to  Monsieur  Gaudron,  as  she  helped 
him  to  soup. 

"Yes,  my  dear  lady,"  answered  the  vicar;  "when 
the  editor  read  the  little  article  I  gave  him,  written 
by  the  secretar}^  of  the  Grand  Almoner,  he  made  no 
difficulty.  He  took  pains  to  insert  it  in  a  conspicuous 
place.  I  should  never  have  thought  of  that ;  but  this 
young  journahst  has  a  wide-awake  mind.  The  de- 
fenders of  religion  can  enter  the  lists  against  impiety 
without  disadvantage  at  the  present  moment,  for  there 
is  a  great  deal  of  talent  in  the  royalist  press.  I  have 
every  reason  to  believe  that  success  will  crown  your 
hopes.  But  you  must  remember,  my  dear  Baudoyer, 
to  promote  Monsieur  Colleville  ;  he  is  an  object  of  great 
interest  to  his  Eminence ;  in  fact,  I  am  desired  to 
mention  him  to  you." 

"  If  I  am  head  of  the  division,  I  will  make  him  head  of 
one  of  my  bureaus,  if  you  want  me  to,"  said  Baudoyer. 

The  matter  thus  referred  to  was  explained  after 
dinner,  when  the  ministerial  organ  (bought  and  sent 
up  by  the  porter)  proved  to  contain  among  its  Paris 
news  the  following  articles,  called  items  :  — 

"  Monsieur  le  Baron  de  la  Billardiere  died  this  morning, 
after  a  long  and  painful  illness.     The  king  loses  a  devoted 


202  Bureaucracy. 

seiTant,  the  Church  a  most  pious  son.  Monsieur  de  la 
Billardiere's  end  has  fitly  crowned  a  noble  life,  consecrated 
in  dark  and  troublous  times  to  perilous  missions,  and  of 
late  years  to  arduous  civic  duties.  Monsieur  de  la  Billar- 
diere  was  provost  of  a  department,  where  his  force  of  char- 
acter triumphed  over  all  the  obstacles  that  rebellion  arrayed 
against  him.  He  subsequently  accepted  the  difficult  post  of 
director  of  a  division  (in  which  his  great  acquirements  were 
not  less  useful  than  the  truly  French  affability  of  his  man- 
ners) for  the  express  purpose  of  conciliating  the  serious 
interests  that  arise  under  its  administration.  No  rewards 
have  ever  been  more  truly  deserved  than  those  by  which  the 
King,  Louis  XVIII.,  and  his  present  Majesty  took  pleasure 
in  crowning  a  loyalty  which  never  faltered  under  the  usurper. 
This  old  family  still  survives  in  the  person  of  a  single  heir  to 
the  excellent  man  whose  death  now  afflicts  so  many  warm 
friends.  His  Majesty  has  already  graciously  made  known 
that  Monsieur  Benjamin  de  la  Billardiere  will  be  included 
among  the  gentlemen-in-ordinary  of  the  Bedchamber. 

"  The  numerous  friends  who  have  not  already  received 
their  notification  of  this  sad  event  are  hereby  informed  that 
the  funeral  will  take  place  to-morrow  at  four  o'clock,  in 
the  church  of  Saint-Roch.  The  memorial  address  will  be 
delivered  by  Monsieur  I'Abbe  Fontanon." 


"  Monsieur  Isidore-Charles- Treville-Baudoyer,  represent- 
ing one  of  the  oldest  bourgeois  families  of  Paris,  and  head  of 
a  bureau  in  the  late  Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere's  division,  has 
lately  recalled  the  old  traditions  of  piety  and  devotion  which 
formerly  distinguished  these  great  families,  so  jealous  for  the 
honor  and  glory  of  religion,  and  so  faithful  in  preserving  its 
monuments.     The  church  of  Saint- Paul  has  long  needed  a 


Bureaucracy.  203 

monstrance  in  keeping  with  the  magnificence  of  that  basilica, 
itself  due  to  the  Company  of  Jesus.  Neither  the  vestry  nor 
the  curate  were  rich  enough  to  decorate  the  altar.  Monsieur 
Baudoyer  has  bestowed  upon  the  parish  a  monstrance  that 
many  persons  have  seen  and  admired  at  Monsieur  Gohier's, 
the  king's  jeweller.  Thanks  to  the  piety  of  this  gentleman, 
who  did  not  shrink  from  the  immensity  of  the  price,  the 
church  of  Saint-Paul  possesses  to-day  a  masterpiece  of  the 
jeweller's  art  designed  by  Monsieur  de  Sommervieux.  It 
gives  us  pleasure  to  make  known  this  fact,  which  proves  how 
powerless  the  declamations  of  liberalism  have  been  on  the 
mind  of  the  Parisian  bourgeoisie.  The  upper  ranks  of  that 
body  have  at  all  times  been  royalist,  and  they  prove  it  when 
occasion  offers." 

"  The  price  was  five  thousand  francs,"  said  the  Abbe 
Gaudron  ;  ' '  but  as  the  paj^ment  was  in  cash,  the  court 
jeweller  reduced  the  amount." 

"  '  Representing  one  of  the  oldest  bourgeois  families 
of  Paris  ! ' "  Saillard  was  saying  to  himself ;  ' '  there  it 
is  printed,  —  in  the  official  paper,  too  !  " 

"  Dear  Monsieur  Gaudron,"  said  Madame  Baudoyer, 
"  please  help  my  father  to  compose  a  little  speech  that 
he  could  slip  into  the  countess's  ear  when  he  takes  her 
the  monthly  stipend, — a  single  sentence  that  would 
cover  all !  I  must  leave  you.  I  am  obliged  to  go  out 
with  my  uncle  Mitral.  Would  you  believe  it  ?  I  was 
unable  to  find  my  uncle  Bidault  at  home  this  afternoon. 
Oh,  what  a  dog-kennel  he  lives  in!  But  Monsieur 
Mitral,  who  knows  his  ways,  says  he  does  all  his  busi- 


204  Bureaucracy, 

ness  between  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  midday, 
and  that  after  that  hour  he  can  be  found  only  at  a  cer- 
tain cafe  called  the  Cafe  Themis,  —  a  singular  name. 

"  Is  justice  done  there?"  said  the  abbe,  laughing. 

"  Do  you  ask  why  he  goes  to  a  caf6  at  the  corner  of 
the  rue  Dauphine  and  the  quai  des  Augustins  ?  They 
say  he  plays  dominoes  there  every  night  with  his  friend 
Monsieur  Gobseck.  I  don't  wish  to  go  to  such  a  place 
alone ;  my  uncle  Mitral  will  take  me  there  and  bring 
me  back." 

At  this  instant  Mitral  showed  his  3^ellow  face,  sur- 
mounted by  a  wig  which  looked  as  though  it  might  be 
made  of  haj- ,  and  made  a  sign  to  his  niece  to  come  at 
once,  and  not  keep  a  carriage  waiting  at  two  francs  an 
hour.  Madame  Baudo^'er  rose  and  went  away  without 
giving  any  explanation  to  her  husband  or  father. 

"  Heaven  has  given  you  in  that  woman,"  said  Mon- 
sieur Gaudron  to  Baudoyer  when  Elisabeth  had  disap- 
peared, "a  perfect  treasure  of  prudence  and  virtue, 
a  model  of  wisdom,  a  Christian  who  gives  sure  signs 
of  possessing  the  Divine  spirit.  Religion  alone  is  able 
to  form  such  perfect  characters.  To-morrow  I  shall 
say  a  mass  for  the  success  of  your  good  cause.  It  is 
all-important,  for  the  sake  of  the  monarchy  and  of 
religion  itself  that  you  should  receive  this  appointment. 
Monsieur  Rabourdin  is  a  liberal ;  he  subscribes  to  the 
'  Journal  des  Debats,'  a  dangerous  newspaper,  which 


Bureaucracy.  205 

made  war  on  Monsieur  le  Comte  de  Villele  to  please 
the  wounded  vanity  of  Monsieur  de  Chateaubriand. 
His  Eminence  will  read  the  newspaper  to-night,  if  only 
to  see  what  is  said  of  his  poor  friend  Monsieur  de  la 
Billardiere ;  and  Monseigneur  the  coadjutor  will  speak 
of  you  to  the  King.  As  for  Monsieur  le  cure,  I  know 
him  well.  When  I  think  of  what  you  have  now  done 
for  his  dear  church,  I  feel  sure  he  will  not  forget  you  in 
his  prayers ;  more  than  that,  he  is  dining  at  this  mo- 
ment with  the  coadjutor  at  the  house  of  the  curate  of 
Saint-Roch." 

These  words  made  Saillard  and  Baudoyer  begin  to 
perceive  that  Elisabeth  had  not  been  idle  ever  since 
Godard  informed  her  of  Monsieur  de  la  Billardiere's 
decease. 

"Isn't  she  clever,  that  Elisabeth  of  mine?"  cried 
Saillard,  comprehending  more  clearly  than  Monsieur 
Tabbe  the  rapid  undermining,  like  the  path  of  a  mole, 
which  his  daughter  had  undertaken. 

*'  She  sent  Godard  to  Rabourdin's  door  to  find  out 
what  newspaper  he  takes,"  said  Gaudron ;  "and  I 
mentioned  the  name  to  the  secretary  of  his  Emi- 
nence, —  for  we  live  at  a  crisis  when  the  Church  and 
Throne  must  keep  themselves  informed  as  to  who  are 
their  friends  and  who  their  enemies." 

"  For  the  last  five  days  I  have  been  trying  to  find 
the  right  thing  to  say  to  his  Excellency's  wife,"  said 
Saillard. 


206  Bureaucracy, 

"All  Paris  will  read  that,"  cried  Baudoyer,  whose 
eyes  were  still  riveted  on  the  paper. 

''Your  eulogy  costs  us  four  thousand  eight  hundred 
francs,  son-in-law !  "  exclaimed  Madame  Saillard. 

"  You  have  adorned  the  house  of  God,"  said  the 
Abbe  Gaudron. 

"  We  might  have  got  salvation  without  doing  that," 
she  returned.  "  But  if  Baudoyer  gets  the  place, 
which  is  worth  eight  thousand  more,  the  sacrifice  is 
not  so  great.  If  he  does  n't  get  it !  hey,  papa,"  she 
added,  looking  at  her  husband,  "how  we  shall  have 
bled!  —  " 

"Well,  never  mind,"  said  Saillard,  enthusiastically, 
"we  can  always  make  it  up  through  Falleix,  who  is 
going  to  extend  his  business  and  use  his  brother,  whom 
he  has  made  a  stockbroker  on  purpose.  Elisabeth 
might  have  told  us,  I  think,  why  Falleix  went  off  in 
such  a  hurry.  But  let 's  invent  m}'  little  speech.  This 
is  what  I  thought  of:  'Madame,  if  3*0 u  would  say  a 
word  to  his  Excellency  — '" 

"  'If  you  would  deign'"  said  Gaudron;  "add  the 
word  '  deign,'  it  is  more  respectful.  But  you  ought  to 
know,  first  of  all,  whether  Madame  la  Dauphine  will 
grant  you  her  protection,  and  then  yon  could  suggest  to 
Madame  la  comtesse  the  idea  of  co-operating  with  the 
wishes  of  her  Royal  Highness." 

"You  ought  to  designate  the  vacant  post,'*  said 
Baudoyer. 


Bureaucracy.  207 

*'' Madame  la  comtesse,'"  began  Saillard,  rising, 
and  bowing  to  his  wife,  with  an  agreeable  smile. 

"Goodness!  Saillard;  how  ridiculous  you  look. 
Take  care,  my  man,  3'ou  '11  make  the  woman  laugh." 

"'Madame  la  comtesse,'"  resumed  Saillard.  "Is 
that  better,  wife  ?  " 

"Yes,  my  duck." 

"  '  The  place  of  the  late  worthy  Monsieur  de  la  Billar- 
diere  is  vacant ;  my  son-in-law,  Monsieur  Baudo3'er  — '  " 

"*Man  of  talent  and  extreme  piety,'"  prompted 
Gaudron. 

"  Write  it  down,  Baudoyer,"  cried  old  Saillard, 
"  write  that  sentence  down." 

Baudoyer  proceeded  to  take  a  pen  and  wrote,  without 
a  blush,  his  own  praises,  precisely  as  Nathan  or  Canalis 
might  have  reviewed  one  of  their  own  books. 

' ' '  Madame  la  comtesse '  —  Don't  3'ou  see,  mother  ?  " 
said  Saillard  to  his  wife ;  "I  am  supposing  you  to  be 
the  minister's  wife." 

"  Do  you  take  me  for  a  fool?  "  she  answered  sharply. 
"  I  know  that." 

"  '  The  place  of  the  late  worthy  Monsieur  de  la  Bil- 
lardiere  is  vacant ;  my  son-in-law.  Monsieur  Baudoyer, 
a  man  of  consummate  talent  and  extreme  piety  — '" 
After  looking  at  Monsieur  Gaudron,  who  was  reflecting, 
he  added,  "  'will  be  very  glad  if  he  gets  it.'  That's 
not  bad ;  it 's  brief  and  it  says  the  whole  thing." 


208  Bureaucracy, 

*'  But  do  wait,  Saillard ;  don't  you  see  that  Monsieur 
Tabb^  is  turning  it  over  in  his  mind  ?  "  said  Madame 
Saillard;  "don't  disturb  him." 

'^ '  Will  be  very  thankful  if  you  would  deign  to  interest 
yourself  in  his  behalf/  "  resumed  Gaudron.  "  '  And  in 
saying  a  word  to  his  Excellency  you  will  particularly 
please  Madame  la  Dauphine,  by  whom  he  has  the  honor 
and  the  happiness  to  be  protected.'  " 

"Ah!  Monsieur  Gaudron,  that  sentence  is  worth 
more  than  the  monstrance  ;  I  don't  regret  the  four  thou- 
sand eight  hundred  —  Besides,  Baudoyer,  my  lad,  3'ou  '11 
pay  them,  won't  you?    Have  you  written  it  all  down?  " 

"  I  shall  make  3'Ou  repeat  it,  father,  morning  and 
evening,"  said  Madame  Saillard.  "  Yes,  that's  a  good 
speet3h.  How  lucky  you  are,  Monsieur  Gaudron,  to 
know  so  much.  That 's  what  it  is  to  be  brought  up  in 
a  seminary ;  they  learn  there  how  to  speak  to  God  and 
his  saints." 

"He  is  as  good  as  he  is  learned,"  said  Baudoyer, 
pressing  the  priest's  hands.  "  Did  you  write  that  arti- 
cle? "  he  added,  pointing  to  the  newspaper. 

"No,"  answered  Gaudron,  "it  was  written  by  the 
secretarj^  of  his  Eminence,  a  young  abbe  who  is  under 
obligations  to  me,  and  who  takes  an  interest  in  Mon- 
sieur Colleville ;  he  was  educated  at  my  expense." 

"  A  good  deed  is  always  rewarded,"  said  Baudoyer. 

While  these  four  personages  were  sitting  down  to 


Bureaucracy,  209 

their  game  of  boston,  Elisabeth  and  her  uncle  Mitral 
reached  the  Cafe  Themis,  with  much  discourse  as  they 
drove  along  about  a  matter  which  Elisabeth's  keen  per- 
ceptions told  her  was  the  most  powerful  laver  that  could 
be  used  to  force  the  minister's  hand  in  the  affair  of  her 
husband's  appointment.  Uncle  Mitral,  a  former  sheriffs 
officer,  crafty,  clever  at  sharp  practice,  and  full  of  ex- 
pedients and  judicial  precautions,  believed  the  honor  of 
his  family  to  be  involved  in  the  appointment  of  his 
nephew.  His  avarice  had  long  led  him  to  estimate  the 
contents  of  old  Gigonnet's  strong-box,  for  he  knew  very 
well  they  would  go  in  the  end  to  benefit  his  nephew 
Baudoyer  ;  and  it  was  therefore  important  that  the  latter 
should  obtain  a  position  which  would  be  in  keeping  with 
the  combined  fortunes  of  the  Saillards  and  old  Gigonnet, 
which  would  finally  devolve  on  the  Baudo^'ers'  little 
daughter;  and  what  an  heiress  she  would  be  with  an 
income  of  a  hundred  thousand  francs !  to  what  social 
position  might  she  not  aspire  with  that  fortune?  He 
adopted  all  the  ideas  of  his  niece  Elisabeth  and  thor- 
oughly understood  them.  He  had  helped  in  sending  off 
Falleix  expeditiously,  explaining  to  him  the  advantage 
of  taking  post  horses.  After  which,  while  eating  his 
dinner,  he  reflected  that  it  would  be  as  well  to  give  a 
twist  of  his  own  to  the  clever  plan  invented  by  Elisabeth. 
When  they  reached  the  Cafe  Themis  he  told  his  niece 

that  he  alone  could  manage  Gigonnet  in  the  matter  they 

14 


210  Bureaucracy, 

both  had  in  view,  and  he  made  her  wait  in  the  hackney- 
coach  and  bide  her  time  to  come  forward  at  the  right 
moment.  Elisabeth  saw  through  the  window-panes  the 
two  faces  of  Gobseck  and  Gigonnet  (her  uncle  Bidault), 
which  stood  out  in  relief  against  the  yellow  wood-work 
of  the  old  cafe,  like  two  cameo  heads,  cold  and  impas- 
sible, in  the  rigid  attitude  that  their  gravity  gave  them. 
The  two  Parisian  misers  were  surrounded  by  a  number 
of  other  old  faces,  on  which  ''  thirty  per  cent  discount  " 
was  written  in  circular  wrinkles  that  started  from  the 
nose  and  turned  round  the  glacial  cheek-bones.  These 
remarkable  physiognomies  brightened  up  on  seeing 
Mitral,  and  their  eyes  gleamed  with  tigerish  curiosity. 

"  He}^,  hey !  it  is  papa  Mitral !  "  cried  one  of  them, 
named  Chaboisseau,  a  little  old  man  who  discounted  for 
a  publisher. 

"  Bless  me,  so  it  is  !  "  said  another,  a  broker  named 
Metivier,  ' '  ha,  that 's  an  old  monke}^  well  up  in  his 
tricks." 

"  And  you,"  retorted  Mitral,  "  you  are  an  old  crow 
who  knows  all  about  carcasses." 

"  True,"  said  the  stern  Gobseck. 

"  What  are  you  here  for?  Have  you  come  to  seize 
friend  Metivier?"  asked  Gigonnet,  pointing  to  the 
broker,  who  had  the  bluff  face  of  a  porter. 

"  Your  great-niece  Elisabeth  is  out  there,  papa 
Gigonnet,"  whispered  Mitral. 


Bureaucracy,  211 

"What!  some  misfortune  ?"  said  Bidault.  The  old 
man  drew  his  eyebrows  together  and  assumed  a  tender 
look  like  that  of  an  executioner  when  about  to  go  to 
work  officially.  In  spite  of  his  Roman  virtue  he  must 
have  been  touched,  for  his  red  nose  lost  somewhat  of  its 
color. 

"Well,  suppose  it  is  misfortune,  won't  3'ou  help 
Saillard's  daughter?  —  a  girl  who  has  knitted  your 
stockings  for  the  last  thirty  years !  "  cried  Mitral. 

"If  there's  good  security  I  don't  say  I  won't," 
replied  Gigonnet.  "  Falleix  is  in  with  them.  Falleix 
has  just  set  up  his  brother  as  a  broker,  and  he  is  doing 
as  much  business  as  the  Brezacs ;  and  what  with?  his 
mind,  perhaps  !     Saillard  is  no  simpleton." 

"  He  knows  the  value  of  money,"  put  in  Chaboisseau. 

That  remark,  uttered  among  those  old  men,  would 
have  made  an  artist  and  thinker  shudder  as  they  all 
nodded  their  heads. 

"But  it  is  none  of  m}^  business,"  resumed  Bidault- 
Gigonnet.  "I'm  not  bound  to  care  for  my  neigh- 
bors' misfortunes.  M}^  principle  is  never  to  be  off  my 
guard  with  friends  or  relatives ;  you  can't  perish  ex- 
cept through  weakness.  Apply  to  Gobseck ;  he  is 
softer." 

The  usurers  all  applauded  these  doctrines  with  a 
shake  of  their  metallic  heads.  An  onlooker  would  have 
fancied  he  heard  the  creaking  of  ill-oiled  machinery. 


212  Bureaucracy, 

"Come,  Gigonnet,  show  a  little  feeling,"  said  Cha- 
boisseau,  "  they  've  knit  3'our  stockings  for  thirtj^  years." 

"That  counts  for  something,"  remarked  Gobseck. 

"Are  you  all  alone?  Is  it  safe  to  speak?"  said 
Mitral,  looking  carefully  about  him.  "I  come  about 
a  good  piece  of  business." 

"If  it  is  good,  why  do  you  come  to  us?"  said 
Gigonnet,  sharpl}",  interrupting  Mitral. 

"  A  fellow  who  was  gentleman  of  the  Bedchamber," 
went  on  Mitral,  "  a  former  chouan^  —  what 's  his  name  ? 
—  La  Billardiere  is  dead." 

"  True,"  said  Gobseck. 

"  And  our  nephew  is  giving  monstrances  to  a  church," 
snarled  Gigonnet. 

"  He  is  not  such  a  fool  as  to  give  them,  he  sells 
them,  old  man,"  said  Mitral,  proudly.  "  He  wants 
La  Billardiere's  place,  and  in  order  to  get  it,  we  must 
seize  —  " 

''''Seize!  j^ou'll  never  be  anything  but  a  sheriflTs 
officer,"  put  in  Metivier,  striking  Mitral  amicablj^  on 
the  shoulder ;  "  I  like  that,  I  do  !  " 

"  Seize  Monsieur  Clement  des  Lupeaulx  in  our 
clutches,"  continued  Mitral;  "Elisabeth  has  discov- 
ered how  to  do  it,  and  he  is  —  " 

"Elisabeth;"  cried  Gigonnet,  interrupting  again; 
"dear  little  creature!  she  takes  after  her  grandfather, 
my  poor  brother !   he  never  had  his  equal !     Ah,  3'ou 


Bureaucracy.  213 

should  have  seen  him  buying  up  old  furniture;  what 
tact !  what  shrewdness  !     What  does  Elisabeth  want?  " 

*'  Hey,  hey  !  "  cried  Mitral,  "  you've  got  back  your 
bowels  of  compassion,  papa  Gigonnet!  That  phe- 
nomenon has  a  cause." 

"  Always  a  child,"  said  Gobseck  to  Gigonnet,  "  you 
are  too  quick  on  the  trigger." 

''Come,  Gobseck  and  Gigonnet,  listen  to  me;  you 
want  to  keep  well  with  des  Lupeaulx,  don't  you? 
You  've  not  forgotten  how  you  plucked  him  in  that 
affair  about  the  king's  debts,  and  3'ou  are  afraid  he  '11 
ask  you  to  return  him  some  of  his  feathers,"  said 
Mitral. 

"Shall  we  tell  him  the  whole  thing?"  asked  Gob- 
seck, whispering  to  Gigonnet. 

"Mitral  is  one  of  us;  he  wouldn't  play  a  shabby 
trick  on  his  former  customers,"  replied  Gigonnet. 
"You  see.  Mitral,"  he  went  on,  speaking  to  the  ex- 
sheriff  in  a  low  voice,  "  we  three  have  just  bought  up 
all  those  debts,  the  payment  of  which  depends  on  the 
decision  of  the  liquidation  committee. 

"  How  much  will  you  lose?  "  asked  Mitral. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Gobseck. 

"Nobody  knows  we  are  in  it,"  added  Gigonnet; 
"  Samanon  screens  us." 

"  Come,  listen  to  me,  Gigonnet ;  it  is  cold,  and  your 
niece  is  waiting  outside.      You  '11   understand  what  I 


214  •         Bureaucracy. 

want  in  two  words.  You  must  at  once,  between  3^ou, 
send  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs  (without 
interest)  into  the  countr}-  after  Falleix,  who  has  gone 
post-haste,  with  a  courier  in  advance  of  him." 

"  Is  it  possible  !  "  said  Gobseck. 

"  What  for?  "  cried  Gigonnet,  "  and  where  to?" 

*'  To  des  Lupeaulx's  magnificent  country-seat,"  re- 
plied Mitral.  "  Falleix  knows  the  countrj^,  for  he  was 
born  there ;  and  he  is  going  to  buy  up  land  all  round 
the  secretary's  miserable  hovel,  with  the  two  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  francs  I  speak  of,  —  good  land,  well 
worth  the  price.  There  are  only  nine  days  before  us 
for  drawing  up  and  recording  the  notarial  deeds  (bear 
that  in  mind).  With  the  addition  of  this  land,  des 
Lupeaulx's  present  miserable  pTopertj^  would  pay  taxes 
to  the  amount  of  one  thousand  francs,  the  sum  neces- 
sary to  make  a  man  eligible  to  the  Chamber.  Ergo^ 
with  it  des  Lupeaulx  goes  into  the  electoral  college, 
becomes  eligible,  count,  and  whatever  he  pleases.  You 
know  the  deputy  who  has  slipped  out  and  left  a  vacancj', 
don't  you?" 

The  two  misers  nodded. 

"  Des  Lupeaulx  would  cut  off  a  leg  to  get  elected 
in  his  place,"  continued  Mitral ;  ' '  but  he  must  have 
the  title-deeds  of  the  propert}^  in  his  own  name,  and 
then  mortgage  them  back  to  us  for  the  amount  of  the 
purchase-money.     Ah !    now  3'ou  begin  to  see  what  I 


Bureaucracy.  215 

am  after !  First  of  all,  we  must  make  sure  of  Bau- 
doyer's  appointment,  and  des  Lupeaulx  will  get  it  for 
us  on  these  terms ;  after  that  is  settled  we  will  hand 
him  back  to  3'ou.  Falleix  is  now  canvassing  the 
electoral  vote.  Don't  you  perceive  that  you  have 
Lupeaulx  completely  in  yoxxv  power  until  after  the 
election  ?  —  for  Falleix's  friends  are  a  large  majority. 
Now  do  you  see  what  I  mean,  papa  Gigonnet?" 

"It  's  a  clever  game,"  said  Metivier. 

"We'll  do  it,"  said  Gigonnet;  "you  agree,  don't 
you,  Gobseck?  Falleix  can  give  us  security  and  put 
mortgages  on  the  property  in  m}^  name ;  we  '11  go  and 
see  des  Lupeaulx  when  all  is  ready." 

"We're  robbed,"  said  Gobseck. 

"Ha,  ha!"  laughed  Mitral,  "I'd  like  to  know  the 
robber !  " 

"'Nobody  can  rob  us  but  ourselves,"  answered 
Gigonnet.  "  I  told  3'ou  we  were  doing  a  good  thing 
in  buying  up  all  des  Lupeaulx's  paper  from  his  credi- 
tors at  sixty  per  cent  discount." 

"Take  this  mortgage  on  his  estate  and  you'll  hold 
him  tighter  still  through  the  interest,"  answered  Mitral. 

"  Possibly,"  said  Gobseck. 

After  exchanging  a  shrewd  look  with  Gobseck, 
Gigonnet  went  to  the  door  of  the  cafe. 

"Elisabeth!  follow  it  up,  my  dear,"  he  said  to  his 
niece.     "  We  hold  your  man  securelj' ;  but  don't  neg- 


216  Bureaucracy, 

lect  accessories.  You  have  begun  well,  clever  woman ! 
go  on  as  you  began  and  you'll  have  your  uncle's  es- 
teem," and  he  grasped  her  hand,  gayly. 

"But,"  said  Mitral,  "  Metivier  and  Chaboisseau 
heard  it  all,  and  they  may  play  us  a  trick  and  tell  the 
matter  to  some  opposition  journal  which  would  catch 
the  ball  on  its  way  and  counteract  the  effect  of  the  min- 
isterial article.  You  must  go  alone,  my  dear  ;  I  dare 
not  let  those  two  cormorants  out  of  my  sight."  So 
saying  he  re-entered  the  cafe. 

The  next  da}^  the  numerous  subscribers  to  a  certain 
liberal  journal  read,  among  the  Paris  items,  the  follow- 
ing article,  inserted  authoritativ^ely  b}^  Chaboisseau  and 
Metivier,  share-holders  in  the  said  journal,  brokers  for 
publishers,  printers,  and  papier-makers,  whose  behests 
no  editor  dared  refuse :  — 

*'  Yesterday  a  ministerial  journal  plainly  indicated  as  the 
probable  successor  of  Monsieur  le  Baron  de  la  Billardiere, 
Monsieur  Baudoyer,  one  of  the  worthiest  citizens  of  a  popu- 
lous quarter,  where  his  benevolence  is  scarcely  less  known 
than  the  piety  on  which  the  ministerial  organ  laid  so  much 
stress.  Why  was  that  sheet  silent  as  to  his  talents?  Did  it 
reflect  that  in  boasting  of  the  bourgeoise  nobility  of  Mon- 
sieur Baudoyer  —  which,  certainly,  is  a  nobility  as  good  as  any 
other  —  it  was  pointing  out  a  reason  for  the  exclusion  of  the 
candidate  ?  A  gratuitous  piece  of  perfidy !  an  attempt  to  kill 
with  a  caress !  To  appoint  Monsieur  Baudoyer  is  to  do  honor 
to  the  virtues,  the  talents  of  the  middle  classes,  of  whom  we 
shall  ever  be  the  supporters,  though  their  cause  seems  at 


Bureaucracy.  217 

times  a  lost  one.  This  appointment,  we  repeat,  will  be  an 
act  of  justice  and  good  policy ;  consequently  we  may  be  sure 
it  will  not  be  made." 


On  the  morrow,  Friday,  the  usual  da}^  for  the  dinner 
given  by  Madame  Rabourdin,  whom  des  Lupeaulx  had 
left  at  midnight,  radiant  in  beautj^,  on  the  staircase 
of  the  Bouffons,  arm  in  arm  with  Madame  de  Camps 
(Madame  Firmiani  had  lately  married),  the  old  roue 
awoke  with  his  thoughts  of  vengeance  calmed,  or 
rather  refreshed,  and  his  mind  full  of  a  last  glance 
exchanged  with  Celestine. 

*'  I'll  make  sure  of  Rabourdin's  support  by  forgiving 
him  now,  —  I  '11  get  even  with  him  later.  If  he  has  n't 
this  place  for  the  time  being  I  should  have  to  give  up 
a  woman  who  is  capable  of  becoming  a  most  precious 
instrument  in  the  pursuit  of  high  political  fortune. 
She  understands  everything ;  shrinks  from  nothing, 
from  no  idea  whatever !  —  and  besides,  I  can't  know 
before  his  Excellenc}"  what  new  scheme  of  admin- 
istration Rabourdin  has  invented.  No,  my  dear  des 
Lupeaulx,  the  thing  in  hand  is  to  win  all  now  for  your 
Celestine.  You  may  make  as  many  faces  as  you  please, 
Madame  la  comtesse,  but  you  will  invite  Madame  Ra- 
bourdin to  your  next  select  party." 

Des  Lupeaulx  was  one  of  those  men  who  to  satisfy 
a  passion  are  quite  able  to  put  away  revenge  in  some 


218  Bureaucracy. 

dark  corner  of  their  minds.  His  course  was  taken  ;  he 
was  resolved  to  get  Rabourdin  appointed. 

"  I  will  prove  to  you,  my  dear  fellow,  that  I  deserve 
a  good  place  in  your  galle}^,"  thought  he  as  he  seated 
himself  in  his  study  and  began  to  unfold  a  newspaper. 

He  knew  so  well  what  the  ministerial  organ  would 
contain  that  he  rarely  took  the  trouble  to  read  it,  but 
on  this  occasion  he  did  open  it  to  look  at  the  article  on 
La  Billardiere,  recollecting  with  amusement  the  dilemma 
in  which  du  Bruel  had  put  him  by  bringing  him  the  night 
before  Bixiou's  mischievous  amendments  to  the  obituar3\ 
He  was  laughing  to  himself  as  he  reread  the  biograph}- 
of  the  late  Comte  de  Fontaine,  dead  a  few  months 
earlier,  which  he  had  hastily  substituted  for  that  of  La 
Billardiere,  when  his  ej-es  were  dazzled  b}^  the  name  of 
Baudoyer.  He  read  with  fury  the  article  which  pledged 
the  minister,  and  then  he  rang  violentlj^  for  Dutocq,  to 
send  him  at  once  to  the  editor.  But  what  was  his 
astonishment  on  reading  the  reply  of  the  opposition 
paper !  The  situation  was  evidentl}'  serious.  He  knew 
the  game,  and  he  saw  that  the  man  who  was  shuffling 
his  cards  for  him  was  a  Greek  of  the  first  order.  To 
dictate  in  this  way  through  two  opposing  newspapers  in 
one  evening,  and  to  begin  the  fight  by  forestalling  the 
intentions  of  the  minister  was  a  daring  game  !  He  rec- 
ognized the  pen  of  a  liberal  editor,  and  resolved  to  ques- 
tion him  that  night  at  the  opera.     Dutocq  appeared. 


Bureaucracy.  219 

**Read  that,"  said  des  Lnpeaulx,  handing  him  the 
two  journals,  and  continuing  to  run  his  eye  over  others 
to  see  if  Baudo3'er  had  pulled  an}'  further  wires.  ''  Go 
to  the  office  and  ask  who  has  dared  to  thus  compromise 
the  minister." 

*'  It  was  not  Monsieur  Baudo3'er  himself,"  answered 
Dutocq,  ''  for  he  never  left  the  ministry  yesterday.  I 
need  not  go  and  inquire ;  for  when  I  took  yowv  article 
to  the  newspaper  office  I  met  a  young  abbe  who  brought 
in  a  letter  from  the  Grand  Almoner,  before  which  you 
yourself  would  have  had  to  bow." 

"  Dutocq,  5'ou  have  a  grudge  against  Monsieur  Ra- 
bourdin,  and  it  isn't  right;  for  he  has  twice  saved  you 
from  being  turned  out.  However,  we  are  not  masters 
of  our  own  feelings  ;  we  sometimes  hate  our  benefactors. 
Only,  remember  this ;  if  you  show  the  slightest  treach- 
ery to  Rabourdin,  without  my  permission,  it  will  be 
your  ruin.  As  to  that  newspaper,  let  the  Grand 
Almoner  subscribe  as  largely  as  we  do,  if  he  wants  its 
services.  Here  we  are  at  the  end  of  the  year;  the 
matter  of  subscriptions  will  come  up  for  discussion,  and 
I  shall  have  something  to  saj'  on  that  head.  As  to  La 
Billardiere's  place,  there  is  onh'  one  way  to  settle  the 
matter;  and  that  is  to  appoint  Rabourdin  this  very 
day." 

'*  Gentlemen,"  said  Dutocq,  returning  to  the  clerks' 
office  and  addressing  his  colleagues.      "  I  don't  know  if 


220  Bureaucracy. 

Bixiou  has  the  art  of  looking  into  futurit}",  but  if  yo\x 
have  not  read  the  ministerial  journal  I  advise  3'ou  to 
stud}^  the  article  about  Baudoj^er ;  then,  as  Monsieur 
Fleur}'  takes  the  opposition  sheet,  j'ou  can  see  the 
reply.  Monsieur  Rabourdin  certainly  has  talent,  but  a 
man  who  in  these  daj^s  gives  a  six- thousand- franc  mon- 
strance to  the  Church  has  a  devilish  deal  more  talent 
than  he." 

Bixiou  [entering].  What  saj^  3^ou,  gentlemen,  to  the 
First  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians  in  our  pious  ministerial 
journal,  and  the  reply  Epistle  to  the  Ministers  in  the 
opposition  sheet?  How  does  Monsieur  Rabourdin  feel 
now,  du  Bruel? 

Du  Bruel  [rushing  in] .  I  don't  know.  [He  drags 
Bixiou  back  into  his  cabinet,  and  says  in  a  low  voice] 
My  good  fellow,  your  way  of  helping  people  is  like  that 
of  the  hangman  who  jumps  upon  a  victim's  shoulders  to 
break  his  neck.  You  got  me  into  a  scrape  with  des 
Lupeaulx,  which  my  foil}"  in  ever  trusting  you  richly 
deserved.  A  fine  thing  indeed,  that  article  on  La  Bil- 
lardiere.  I  sha'n't  forget  the  trick  !  Why,  the  very  first 
sentence  was  as  good  as  telling  the  King  he  was  super- 
annuated and  it  was  time  for  him  to  die.  And  as  to 
that  Quiberon  bit,  it  said  plainly  that  the  King  was  a  — 
What  a  fool  I  was  ! 

Bixiou  [laughing] .  Bless  my  heart !  are  you  getting 
angry  ?    Can't  a  fellow  joke  an}"  more  ? 


Bureaucracy.  221 

Du  Bruel.  Joke  !  joke  indeed.  When  you  want  to 
be  made  head-clerk  somebody  shall  joke  with  3'ou,  my 
dear  fellow. 

Bixiou  [in  a  bullying  tone].     Angry,  are  we? 

Du  Bruel.     Yes ! 

Bixiou  [dr3^1y].     So  much  the  worse  for  you. 

Du  Bruel  [uneasy].  You  wouldn't  pardon  such  a 
thing  yourself,  I  know. 

Bixiou  [in  a  wheedling  tone].  To  a  friend?  indeed 
I  would.  [They  hear  Fleury's  voice.]  There 's  Fleury 
cursing  Baudoyer.  Hey,  how  well  the  thing  has  been 
managed  !  Baudoyer  will  get  the  appointment.  [Confi- 
dentially] After  all,  so  much  the  better.  Du  Bruel, 
just  keep  j^our  eye  on  the  consequences.  Rabourdin 
would  be  a  mean-spirited  creature  to  stay  under  Bau- 
doyer; he  will  send  in  his  resignation,  and  that  will 
give  us  two  places.  You  can  be  head  of  the  bureau  and 
take  me  for  under-head-clerk.  We  will  make  vaudevilles 
together,  and  I  '11  fag  at  your  work  in  the  office. 

Du  Bruel  [smiling].  Dear  me,  I  never  thought 
of  that.  Poor  Rabourdin !  I  shall  be  sorry  for  him, 
though. 

Bixiou.  That  shows  how  much  j^ou  love  him ! 
[Changing  his  tone]  Ah,  well,  I  don't  pity  him  any 
longer.  He  's  rich ;  his  wife  gives  parties  and  does  n't 
ask  me,  —  me,  who  go  everywhere  !  Well,  good-bye, 
my  dear  fellow,  good-bye,  and  don't  owe  me  a  grudge  ! 


222  Bureaucracy. 

[He  goes  out  through  the  clerks'  office.]  Adieu,  gen- 
tlemen ;  did  n't  I  tell  you  j^esterday  that  a  man  who 
has  nothing  but  virtues  and  talents  will  always  be 
poor,  even  though  he  has  a  pretty  wife  ? 

Henry.     You  are  so  rich,  you ! 

Bixiou.  Not  bad,  my  Cincinnatus  !  But  you  '11  give 
me  that  dinner  at  the  Rocher  de  Cancale. 

PoiRET.  It  is  absolutely  impossible  for  me  to  under- 
stand Monsieur  Bixiou. 

Phellion  [with  an  elegiac  air].  Monsieur  Rabour- 
din  so  seldom  reads  the  newspapers  that  it  might  per- 
haps be  serviceable  to  deprive  ourselves  momentarily 
by  taking  them  in  to  him.  [Fleiiry  hands  over  his 
paper,  Vimeux  the  office  sheet,  and  Phellion  departs 
with  them.] 

At  that  moment  des  Lupeaulx,  coming  leisurely 
downstairs  to  breakfast  with  the  minister,  was  asking 
himself  whether,  before  playing  a  trump  card  for  the 
husband,  it  might  not  be  prudent  to  probe  the  wife's 
heart  and  make  sure  of  a  reward  for  his  devotion. 
He  was  feeling  about  for  the  small  amount  of  heart 
that  he  possessed,  when,  at  a  turn  of  the  staircase, 
he  encountered  his  law3'er,  who  said  to  him,  smiling, 
"  Just  a  word,  Monseigneur,"  in  the  tone  of  familiarity 
assumed  by  men  who  know  the}'  are  indispensable. 

''What  is  it,  my  dear  Desroches?"  exclaimed  the 
politician.     "  Has  anything  happened? " 


Bureaucracy.  223 

* '  I  have  come  to  tell  3'ou  that  all  3'our  notes  and 
debts  have  been  bought  up  by  Gobseck  and  Gigonnet, 
under  the  name  of  a  certain  Samanon." 

''  Men  whom  I  helped  to  make  their  millions  !  " 

"  Listen,"  whispered  the  lawj'er.  "  Gigonnet  (really 
named  Bidault)  is  the  uncle  of  Saillard,  your  cashier; 
and  Saillard  is  father-in-law  to  a  certain  Baudoyer, 
who  thinks  he  has  a  right  to  the  vacant  place  in  your 
ministr3\  Don't  you  think  I  have  done  right  to  come 
and  tell  you  ?  " 

"Thank  3"0u,"  said  des  Lupeaulx,  nodding  to  the 
lawyer  with  a  shrewd  look. 

"  One  stroke  of  your  pen  will  buy  them  off,"  said 
Desroches,  leaving  him. 

"What  an  immense  sacrifice!"  muttered  des  Lu- 
peaulx. "  It  would  be  impossible  to  explain  it  to  a 
woman,"  thought  he.  "  Is  Celestine  worth  more  than 
the  clearing  off  of  my  debts? — that  is  the  question. 
I'll  go  and  see  her  this  morning." 

So  the  beautiful  Madame  Rabourdin  was  to  be,  within 
an  hour,  the  arbiter  of  her  husband's  fate,  and  no  power 
on  earth  could  warn  her  of  the  importance  of  her  re- 
plies, or  give  her  the  least  hint  to  guard  her  conduct 
and  compose  her  voice.  Moreover,  in  addition  to  her 
mischances,  she  believed  herself  certain  of  success, 
never  dreaming  that  Rabourdin  was  undermined  in  all 
directions  b}-  the  secret  sapping  of  the  mollusks. 


224  Bureaucracy. 

*'  Well,  Monseigneur,"  said  des  Lupeaiilx,  entering 
the  little  salon  where  thej  breakfasted,  ' '  have  you 
seen  the  articles  on  Baudojer?" 

"  For  God's  sake,  m}^  dear  friend,"  replied  the  min- 
ister, "  don't  talk  of  those  appointments  just  now; 
let  me  have  an  hour's  peace !  The}-  cracked  mj^  ears 
last  night  with  that  monstrance.  The  only  way  to 
save  Rabourdin  is  to  bring  his  appointment  before  the 
Council,  unless  I  submit  to  having  my  hand  forced. 
It  is  enough  to  disgust  a  man  with  the  public  service. 
I  must  purchase  the  right  to  keep  that  excellent  Ra- 
bourdin by  promoting  a  certain  Colleville ! " 

"  Why  not  make  over  the  management  of  this  pretty 
little  comedy  to  me,  and  rid  yourself  of  the  worry  of  it? 
I  '11  amuse  you  every  morning  with  an  account  of  the 
game  of  chess  I  should  play  with  the  Grand  Almoner," 
said  des  Lupeaulx. 

u  Ygj.y  good,"  said  the  minister,  "  settle  it  with  the 
head  examiner.  But  you  know  perfectly  well  that 
nothing  is  more  likely  to  strike  the  king's  mind  than 
just  those  reasons  the  opposition  journal  has  chosen 
to  put  forth.  Good  heavens  !  fancy  managing  a  min- 
istry with  such  men  as  Baudoyer  under  me  !  " 

"  An  imbecile  bigot,"  said  des  Lupeaulx,  "  and  as 
utterly  incapable  as — " 

"  —  as  La  Billardiere,"  added  the  minister. 

"  But  La  Billardiere  had  the  manners  of  a  gentleman- 


Bureaucracy.  225 

in-ordinarj,"  replied  des  Lupeaulx.  "  Madame,"  he 
continued,  addressing  the  countess,  "it  is  now  an 
absolute  necessity  to  invite  Madame  Rabourdin  to 
your  next  private  party.  I  must  assure  you  she  is 
the  intimate  friend  of  Madame  de  Camps ;  they  were 
at  the  Opera  together  last  night.  I  first  met  her  at 
the  hotel  Firmiani.  Besides,  you  will  see  that  she  is 
not  of  a  kind  to  compromise  a  salon." 

"  Invite   Madame   Rabourdin,   my   dear,"   said  the 
minister,  "  and  pray  let  us  talk  of  something  else." 


15 


226  Bureaucracy, 


VH 

SCENES    FKOM   DOMESTIC   LIFE. 

Parisian  households  are  literally  eaten  up  with  the 
desire  to  be  in  keeping  with  the  luxury  that  surrounds 
them  on  all  sides,  and  few  there  are  who  have  the 
wisdom  to  let  their  external  situation  conform  to  their 
internal  revenue.  But  this  vice  ma^^  perhaps  denote  a 
truly  French  patriotism,  which  seeks  to  maintain  the 
supremacy  of  the  nation  in  the  matter  of  dress. 
France  reigns  through  clothes  over  the  whole  of  Eu- 
rope ;  and  every  one  must  feel  the  importance  of 
retaining  a  commercial  sceptre  that  makes  fashion  in 
France  what  the  nav}^  is  to  England.  This  patriotic 
ardor  which  leads  a  nation  to  sacrifice  everything  to 
appearances  —  to  the  paroistre^  as  d'Aubigne  said  in 
the  days  of  Henri  IV.  —  is  the  cause  of  those  vast 
secret  labors  which  employ  the  whole  of  a  Parisian 
woman's  morning,  when  she  wishes,  as  Madame  Ra- 
bourdin  wished,  to  keep  up  on  twelve  thousand  francs 
a  3'ear  the  style  that  many  a  famih^  with  thirty  thou- 
sand does  not  indulge  in.  Consequently,  every  Friday, 
—  the  day  of  her  dinner-parties,  —  Madame  Rabourdin 


Bureaucracy.  227 

helped  the  chambermaid  to  do  the  rooms ;  for  the  cook 
went  early  to  market,  and  the  man-servant  was  clean- 
ing the  silver,  folding  the  napkins,  and  polishing  the 
glasses.  The  ill-advised  individual  who  might  happen, 
through  an  oversight  of  the  porter,  to  enter  Madame 
Rabourdin's  establishment  about  eleven  o'clock  in  the 
morning  would  have  found  her  in  the  midst  of  a  dis- 
order the  reverse  of  picturesque,  wrapped  in  a  dressing- 
gown,  her  hair  ill-dressed,  and  her  feet  in  old  slippers, 
attending  to  the  lamps,  arranging  the  flowers,  or  cook- 
ing in  haste  an  extremely  unpoetic  breakfast.  The 
visitor  to  whom  the  mysteries  of  Parisian  life  were  un- 
known would  certainly  have  learned  for  the  rest  of  his 
life  not  to  set  foot  in  these  greenrooms  at  the  wrong 
moment ;  a  woman  caught  at  her  matin  mysteries 
would  ever  after  point  him  out  as  a  man  capable  of  the 
blackest  crimes  ;  or  she  would  talk  of  his  stupidity  and 
indiscretion  in  a  manner  to  ruin  him.  The  true  Paris- 
ian woman,  indulgent  to  all  curiosit}^  that  she  can  put 
to  profit,  is  implacable  to  that  which  makes  her  lose 
her  prestige.  Such  a  domiciliarj^  invasion  ma}^  be  called, 
not  onlj"  (as  they  say  in  the  police  reports)  an  attack 
on  privacy,  but  a  burglary,  a  robbery  of  all  that  is  most 
precious,  namel}',  credit.  A  woman  is  quite  willing  to 
let  herself  be  surprised  half-dressed,  with  her  hair  about 
her  shoulders.  If  her  hair  is  all  her  own  she  scores 
one  ;    but   she   will    never    allow   herself  to  be   seen 


228  Bureaucracy, 

*'  doing  "  her  own  rooms,  or  she  loses  her  paroistre,  — 
that  precious  seoning-to-he  ! 

Madame  Rabourdin  was  in  full  tide  of  preparation 
for  her  Frida}'  dinner,  standing  in  the  midst  of  provis- 
ions the  cook  had  just  fished  from  the  vast  ocean  of  the 
markets,  when  Monsieur  des  Lupeaulx  made  his  way 
stealthil}*  in.  The  general-secretary  was  certainly  the 
last  man  Madame  Rabourdin  expected  to  see,  and  so, 
when  she  heard  his  boots  creaking  in  the  ante-cham- 
ber, she  exclaimed,  impatiently,  "The  hair-dresser 
already  ! "  —  an  exclamation  as  little  agreeable  to  des 
Lupeaulx  as  the  sight  of  des  Lupeaulx  was  agreeable 
to  her.  She  immediately  escaped  into  her  bedroom, 
where  chaos  reigned ;  a  jumble  of  furniture  to  be  put 
out  of  sight,  with  other  heterogeneous  articles  of  more 
or  rather  less  elegance,  —  a  domestic  carnival,  in  short. 
The  bold  des  Lupeaulx  followed  the  handsome  fugi- 
tive, so  piquant  did  she  seem  to  him  in  her  dishabille. 
There  is  something  indescribably  alluring  to  the  eye  in 
a  portion  of  flesh  seen  through  an  hiatus  in  the  under- 
garment, more  attractive  far  than  when  it  rises  grace- 
fully above  the  circular  curve  of  the  velvet  bodice,  to 
the*  vanishing  line  of  the  prettiest  swan's-neck  that  ever 
lover  kissed  before  a  ball.  When  the  eye  dwells  on  a 
woman  in  full  dress  making  exhibition  of  her  magnifi- 
cent white  shoulders,  do  we  not  fanc}-  that  we  see  the 
elegant  dessert  of   a  grand  dinner?    But  the  glance 


Bureaucracy.  229 

that  glides  through  the  disarray  of  muslins  rumpled  in 
sleep  enjoys,  as  it  were,  a  feast  of  stolen  fruit  glowing 
between  the  leaves  on  a  garden  wall. 

"  Stop  !  wait ! "  cried  the  pretty  Parisian,  bolting  the 
door  of  the  disordered  room. 

She  rang  for  Therese,  called  for  her  daughter,  the 
cook,  and  the  man-servant,  wishing  she  possessed  the 
whistle  of  the  machinist  at  the  Opera.  Her  call,  how- 
ever, answered  the  same  purpose.  In  a  moment,  ano- 
ther phenomenon  !  the  salon  assumed  a  piquant  morning 
look,  quite  in  keeping  with  the  becoming  toilet  hastily 
got  together  by  the  fugitive  ;  we  say  it  to  her  glory,  for 
she  was  evidently  a  clever  woman,  in  this  at  least. 

"You!"  she  said,  coming  forward,  "at  this  hour? 
What  has  happened?" 

*'  Very  serious  things,"  answered  des  Lupeaulx. 
"You  and  I  must  understand  each  other  now." 

Celestine  looked  at  the  man  behind  his  glasses,  and 
understood  the  matter. 

"My  principal  vice,"  she  said,  "is  oddity.  For 
instance,  I  do  not  mix  up  affections  with  politics ; 
let  us  talk  politics,  —  business,  if  you  will,  —  the  rest 
can  come  later.  However,  it  is  not  really  oddity  nor 
a  whim  that  forbids  me  to  mingle  ill-assorted  colors  and 
put  together  things  that  have  no  affinity,  and  compels 
me  to  avoid  discords ;  it  is  m}'  natural  instinct  as  an 
artist.     We  women  have  politics  of  our  own." 


230  Bureaucracy, 

Already  the  tones  of  her  voice  and  the  charm  of  her 
manners  were  producing  their  effect  on  the  secretary 
and  metamorphosing  his  roughness  into  sentimental 
courtesy;  she  had  recalled  him  to  his  obligations  as 
a  lover.  A  clever  pretty  woman  makes  an  atmosphere 
about  her  in  which  the  nerves  relax  and  the  feelings 
soften. 

"You  are  ignorant  of  what  is  happening,"  said  des 
Lupeaulx,  harshly,  for  he  still  thought  it  best  to  make 
a  show  of  harshness.     "  Read  that." 

He  gave  the  two  newspapers  to  the  graceful  woman, 
having  drawn  a  line  in  red  ink  round  each  of  the  famous 
articles. 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  but  this  is  dread- 
ful !     Who  is  this  Baudoyer  ?  " 

*'A  donkey,"  answered  des  Lupeaulx;  "but,  as 
3'ou  see,  he  uses  means, — he  gives  monstrances;  he 
succeeds,  thanks  to  some  clever  hand  that  pulls  the 
wires." 

The  thought  of  her  debts  crossed  Madame  Rabour- 
din's  mind  and  blurred  her  sight,  as  if  two  lightning 
flashes  had  blinded  her  eyes  at  the  same  moment ;  her 
ears  hummed  under  the  pressure  of  the  blood  that  be- 
gan to  beat  in  her  arteries  ;  she  remained  for  a  moment 
quite  bewildered,  gazing  at  a  window  which  she  did  not 
see. 

"  But  you  are  faithful  to  us?"  she  said  at  last,  with 


Bureaucracy,  231 

a  winning  glance  at  des  Lupeaulx,  as  if  to  attach  him 
to  her. 

"  That  is  as  it  may  be,"  he  replied,  answering  her 
glance  with  an  interrogative  look  which  made  the 
poor  woman  blush. 

*'If  3^ou  demand  caution-money  you  may  lose  all," 
she  said,  laughing ;  "  I  thought  3-ou  more  magnanimous 
than  3'ou  are.  And  3'ou,  you  thought  me  less  a  person 
than  I  am,  —  a  sort  of  school-girl." 

''  You  have  misunderstood  me,"  he  said,  with  a  covert 
smile;  "I  meant  that  I  could  not  assist  a  man  who 
plays  against  me  just  as  I'Etourdi  played  against 
Mascarille." 

"  "What  can  you  mean?  " 

"  This  will  prove  to  you  whether  I  am  magnanimous 
or  not." 

He  gave  Madame  Rabourdin  the  memorandum  stolen 
b}'  Dutocq,  pointing  out  to  her  the  passage  in  which  her 
husband  had  so  ably  analyzed  him. 

"  Read  that." 

Celestine  recognized  the  handwriting,  read  the  paper, 
and  turned  pale  under  the  blow. 

"  All  the  ministries,  the  whole  service  is  treated  in 
the  same  way,"  said  des  Lupeaulx. 

"  Happil}^,"  she  said,  "you  alone  possess  this  docu- 
ment.    I  cannot  explain  it,  even  to  mj'self " 

"The  man  who  stole  it  is  not  such  a  fpol  as  to  let 


232  Bureaucracy, 

me  have  it  without  keeping  a  copy  for  himself;  he  is 
too  great  a  liar  to  admit  it,  and  too  clever  in  his  busi- 
ness to  give  it  up.     I  did  not  even  ask  him  for  it." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"  Your  chief  clerk." 

"Dutocq!  People  are  always  punished  through 
their  kindnesses  !  But,"  she  added,  "  he  is  only  a  dog 
who  wants  a  bone." 

"  Do  you  know  what  the  other  side  offer  me,  poor 
devil  of  a  general-secretary  ?  " 

"What?" 

"  I  owe  thirty  thousand  and  odd  miserable  francs, — 
3'ou  will  despise  me  because  it  isn't  more,  but  here,  I 
grant  you,  I  am  insignificant.  Well,  Baudoj'er's  uncle 
has  bought  up  mj'  debts,  and  is,  doubtless,  ready  to 
give  me  a  receipt  for  them  if  Baudoyer  is  appointed." 

"  But  all  that  is  monstrous." 

"  Not  at  all ;  it  is  monarchical  and  religious,  for  the 
Grand  Almoner  is  concerned  in  it,  Baudoyer  himself 
must  appoint  CoUeville  in  return  for  ecclesiastical 
assistance." 

"What  shall  you  do?'; 

"  What  will  you  bid  me  do?"  he  said,  with  charming 
grace,  holding  out  his  hand. 

Celestine  no  longer  thought  him  ugly,  nor  old,  nor 
white  and  chilling  as  a  hoar-frost,  nor  indeed  anything 
that  was  odious  and  offensive,  but  she  did  not  give  him 


Bureaucracy,  233 

her  hand.  At  night,  hi  her  salon,  she  would  have  let 
him  take  it  a  hundred  times,  but  here,  alone  and  in  the 
morning,  the  action  seemed  too  like  a  promise  that 
might  lead  her  far. 

"  And  they  say  that  statesmen  have  no  hearts  !  "  she 
cried  enthusiastically,  trying  to  hide  the  harshness  of 
her  refusal  under  the  grace  of  her  words.  "The 
thought  used  to  terrify  me,"  she  added,  assuming  an 
innocent,  ingenuous  air. 

"  What  a  calumny !  "  cried  des  Lupeaulx.  "  Onl}"  this 
week  one  of  the  stiffest  of  diplomatists,  a  man  who  has 
heen  in  the  service  ever  since  he  came  to  manhood,  has 
married  the  daughter  of  an  actress,  and  has  introduced 
her  at  the  most  iron-bound  court  in  Europe  as  to  quar- 
terings  of  nobilit3\" 

"  You  will  continue  to  support  us?  " 

"lam  to  draw  up  youv  husband's  appointment  — 
But  no  cheating,   remember." 

She  gave  him  her  hand  to  kiss,  and  tapped  him  on 
the  cheek  as  she  did  so.     "  You  are  mine  !  "  she  said. 

Des  Lupeaulx  admired  the  expression. 

[That  night,  at  the  Opera,  the  old  coxscomb  related 
the  incident  as  follows  :  "  A  woman  who  did  not  want 
to  tell  a  man  she  would  be  his,  —  an  acknowledgment  a 
well-bred  woman  never  allows  herself  to  make, —  changed 
the  words  into  *  You  are  mine.'  Don't  you  think  the 
evasion  charming?"] 


234  Bureaucracy. 

"  But  you  must  be  my  allj^/'  he  answered.  *'  Now 
listen,  your  husband  has  spoken  to  the  minister  of  a 
plan  for  the  reform  of  the  administration  ;  the  paper  I 
have  shown  3'ou  is  a  part  of  that  plan.  I  want  to  know 
what  it  is.     Find  out,  and  tell  me  to-night." 

"I  will,"  she  answered,  wholh-  unaware  of  the  im- 
portant nature  of  the  errand  which  brought  des  Lupeaulx 
to  the  house  that  morning. 

**  Madame,  the  hair-dresser." 

''  At  last !  "  thought  Celestine.  ''1  don't  see  how  I 
should  have  got  out  of  it  if  he  had  dela3'ed  much  longer." 

"  You  do  not  know  to  what  lengths  my  devotion  can 
go,"  said  des  Lupeaulx,  rising.  "  You  shall  be  invited 
to  the  first  select  party  given  by  his  Excellency's  wife." 

"  Ah,  3'ou  are  an  angel !  "  she  cried.  "And  I  see  now 
how  much  you  love  me  ;  3'ou  love  me  intelligently'." 

"To-night,  dear  child"  he  said,  "I  shall  find  out  at 
the  Opera  what  journalists  are  conspiring  for  Baudoyer, 
and  we  will  measure  swords  together." 

"Yes,  but  you  must  dine  with  us,  will  you  not?  I 
have  taken  pains  to  get  the  things  you  like  best  —  " 

"  All  that  is  so  like  love,"  said  des  Lupeaulx  to  him- 
self as  he  went  downstairs,  "that  I  am  willing  to  be 
deceived  in  that  way  for  a  long  time.  Well,  if  she  is 
tricking  me  I  shall  know  it.  I  '11  set  the  cleverest  of 
all  traps  before  the  appointment  is  fairly  signed,  and 
I  '11  read  her  heart.     Ah  !  my  little  cats,  I  know  yow  ! 


Bureaucracy.  235 

for,  after  all,  women  are  just  what  we  men  are.  Twenty- 
eight  years  old,  virtuous,  and  living  here  in  the  rue 
Duphot !  —  a  rare  piece  of  kick  and  worth  cultivating," 
thought  the  elderly  butterfly  as  he  fluttered  down  the 
staircase. 

"  Good  heavens  !  that  man,  without  his  glasses,  must 
look  funny  enough  in  a  dressing-gown  !  "  thought  Celes- 
tine,  "  but  the  harpoon  is  in  his  back  and  he'll  tow  me 
where  I  want  to  go ;  I  am  sure  now  of  that  invitation. 
He  has  played  his  part  in  my  comedy." 

When,  at  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  Rabourdin 
came  home  to  dress  for  dinner,  his  wife  presided  at  his 
toilet  and  presently  laid  before  him  the  fatal  memo- 
randum which,  like  the  slipper  in  the  Arabian  Nights, 
the  luckless  man  was  fated  to  meet  at  ever}-  turn. 

"Who  gave  you  that?"  he  asked,  thunderstruck. 

"  Monsieur  des' Lupeaulx." 

"  So  he  has  been  here  I  "  cried  Rabourdin,  with  a  look 
which  would  certainly  have  made  a  guilt}'  woman  turn 
pale,  but  which  Celestine  received  with  unruffled  brow 
and  a  laughing  eye. 

*'  And  he  is  coming  back  to  dinner,"  she  said.  ''  Why 
that  startled  air?" 

"My  dear,"  replied  Rabourdin,  "I  have  mortally 
oflended  des  Lupeaulx  ;  such  men  never  forgive,  and  3'et 
he  fawns  upon  me  !     Do  you  think  I  don't  see  why  ?  " 


23^  hunaucfacg, 

*' The  man  seems  to  me,"  she  said,  "to  have  good 
taste ;  you  can't  expect  me  to  blame  him.  I  really 
don't  know  anything  more  flattering  to  a  woman  than 
to  please  a  worn-out  palate.     After — " 

*'  A  truce  to  nonsense,  Celestine.  Spare  a  much-tried 
man.  I  cannot  get  an  audience  of  the  minister,  and  my 
honor  is  at  stake." 

"  Good  heavens,  no !  Dutocq  can  have  the  promise 
of  a  good  place  as  soon  as  you  are  named  head  of  the 
division." 

"Ah!  I  see  what  5'ou  are  about,  dear  child,"  said 
Rabourdin ;  "  but  the  game  you  are  playing  is  just  as 
dishonorable  as  the  real  thing  that  is  going  on  around 
us.     A  lie  is  a  lie,  and  an  honest  woman —  " 

"  Let  me  use  the  weapons  employed  against  us." 

"  Celestine,  the  more  that  man  des  Lupeaulx  feels  he 
is  foolishly  caught  in  a  trap,  the  more  bitter  he  will  be 
against  me." 

"  What  if  I  get  him  dismissed  altogether?  " 

Rabourdin  looked  at  his  wife  in  amazement. 

"  I  am  thinking  only  of  j^our  advancement;  it  was 
high  time,  my  poor  husband,"  continued  Celestine. 
"But  you  are  mistaking  the  dog  for  the  game,"  she 
added,  after  a  pause.  "  In  a  few  days  des  Lupeaulx 
will  have  accomplished  all  that  I  want  of  him.  While 
3'ou  are  tr3nng  to  speak  to  the  minister,  and  before 
you  cain  even  see  him  on  business,  I  shall  have  seen 


Bureaucracy*  237 

him  and  spoken  with  him.  You  are  worn  out  in 
trying  to  bring  that  plan  of  your  brain  to  birth,  —  a 
plan  which  you  have  been  hiding  from  me ;  but  you 
will  find  that  in  three  months  3'our  wife  has  accom- 
plished more  than  you  have  done  in  six  years.  Come, 
tell  me  this  fine  scheme  of  jowvs." 

Rabourdin,  continuing  to  shave,  cautioned  his  wife 
not  to  say  a  word  about  his  work,  and  after  assuring  her 
that  to  confide  a  single  idea  to  des  Lupeaulx  would  be 
to  put  the  cat  near  the  milk-jug,  he  began  an  explana- 
tion of  his  labors. 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  this  before,  Rabourdin?  " 
said  Celestine,  cutting  her  husband  short  at  his  fifth 
sentence.  ''  You  might  have  saved  j^ourself  a  world 
of  trouble.  I  can  understand  that  a  man  should  be 
blinded  by  an  idea  for  a  moment,  but  to  nurse  it  up 
for  six  or  seven  years,  that 's  a  thing  I  cannot  com- 
prehend !  You  want  to  reduce  the  budget,  —  a  vul- 
gar and  commonplace  idea !  The  budget  ought,  on 
the  contrary,  to  reach  two  thousand  millions.  Then, 
indeed,  France  would  be  great.  If  5^ou  want  a  new 
system  let  it  be  one  of  loans,  as  Monsieur  de  Nucingen 
keeps  saying.  The  poorest  of  all  treasuries  is  the  one 
with  a  surplus  that  it  never  uses ;  the  mission  of  a 
minister  of  finance  is  to  fling  gold  out  of  the  windows. 
It  will  come  back  to  him  through  the  cellars  ;  and  you, 
3'ou  want  to  hoard  it !     The  thing  to  do  is  to  increase 


238  Bureaucracy. 

the  offices  and  all  government  emploj^ments,  instead  of 
reducing  them  !  So  far  from  lessening  the  public  debt, 
3'ou  ought  to  increase  the  creditors.  If  the  Bourbons 
want  to  reign  in  peace,  let  them  seek  creditors  in  the 
towns  and  villages,  and  place  their  loans  there  ;  above 
all,  they  ought  not  to  let  foreigners  draw  interest  away 
from  France ;  some  daj'  an  alien  nation  might  ask  us 
for  the  capital.  Whereas  if  capital  and  interest  are 
held  only  in  France,  neither  France  nor  credit  can 
perish.  That 's  what  saved  England.  Your  plan  is 
the  tradesman's  plan.  An  ambitious  public  man  should 
produce  some  bold  scheme,  —  he  should  make  himself 
another  Law,  without  Law's  fatal  ill-luck  ;  he  ought  to 
exhibit  the  power  of  credit,  and  show  that  we  should  re- 
duce, not  principal,  but  interest,  as  the}'  do  in  England." 

"  Come,  come,  Celestine,"  said  Rabourdin  ;  "  mix  up 
ideas  as  much  as  j'ou  please,  and  make  fun  of  them,  — 
I  'm  accustomed  to  that ;  but  don't  criticise  a  work  of 
which  you  know  nothing  as  yet." 

"Do  I  need,"  she  asked,  "to  know  a  scheme  the 
essence  of  which  is  to  govern  France  with  a  civil  ser- 
vice of  six  thousand  men  instead  of  twenty  thousand  ? 
My  dear  friend,  even  allowing  it  were  the  plan  of  a 
man  of  genius,  a  king  of  France  who  attempted  to 
carry  it  out  would  get  himself  dethroned.  You  can 
keep  down  a  feudal  aristocracy  by  levelling  a  few 
heads,  but  you  can't  subdue  a  M'dra  with  thousands. 


Bureaucracy.  239 

And  is  it  with  the  present  ministers  —  between  our- 
selves, a  wretched  crew  —  that  you  expect  to  carr}"  out 
your  reform?  No,  no  ;  change  the  monetary  system  if 
you  will,  but  do  not  meddle  with  men,  with  little  men ; 
they  cry  out  too  much,  whereas  gold  is  dumb." 

"But,  Celestine,  if  you  will  talk,  and  put  wit  before 
argument,  we  shall  never  understand  each  other." 

*'  Understand !  I  understand  what  that  paper,  in 
which  you  have  analyzed  the  capacities  of  the  men  in 
office,  will  lead  to,"  she  replied,  paying  no  attention  to 
what  her  husband  said.  ' '  Good  heavens !  you  have 
sharpened  the  axe  to  cut  off  your  own  head.  Holy 
Virgin !  why  did  n't  you  consult  me  ?  I  could  have 
at  least  prevented  you  from  committing  anything  to 
writing,  or,  at  any  rate,  if  you  insisted  on  putting  it  to 
paper,  I  would  have  written  it  down  myself,  and  it 
should  never  have  left  this  house.  Good  God !  to 
think  that  he  never  told  me !  That 's  what  men  are ! 
capable  of  sleeping  with  the  wife  of  their  bosom  for 
seven  years,  and  keeping  a  secret  from  her !  Hiding 
their  thoughts  from  a  poor  woman  for  seven  years  !  — 
doubting  her  devotion  !  " 

"  But," cried  Rabourdin,  provoked,  "for  eleven  3'ears 
and  more  I  have  been  unable  to  discuss  anything  with 
3'ou  because  3'ou  insist  on  cutting  me  short  and  sub- 
stituting your  ideas  for  mine.  You  know  nothing  at 
all  about  my  scheme," 


240.  Bureaucracy, 

"Nothing!     I  know  all." 

"Then  tell  it  to  me!"  cried  Rabourdin,  angry  for 
the  first  time  since  his  marriage. 

"There!  it  is  half-past  six  o'clock;  finish  shaving, 
and  dress  at  once,"  she  cried  hastily,  after  the  fashion 
of  women  when  pressed  on  a  point  they  are  not  read}- 
to  talk  of.  "I  must  go ;  we  '11  adjourn  the  discussion, 
for  I  don't  want  to  be  nervous  on  a  reception-day. 
Good  heavens  !  the  poor  soul !  "  she  thought,  as  she  left 
the  room,  "  it  is  hard  to  be  in  labor  for  seven  years 
and  bring  forth  a  dead  child!  And  not  trust  his 
wife!" 

She  went  back  into  the  room. 

"If  3'ou  had  listened  to  me  you  would  never  have 
interceded  to  keep  your  chief  clerk ;  he  stole  that 
abominable  paper,  and  has,  no  doubt,  kept  a  fac-simile 
of  it.     Adieu,  man  of  genius  !  " 

Then  she  noticed  the  almost  tragic  expression  of  her 
husband's  grief;  she  felt  she  had  gone  too  far,  and  ran 
to  him,  seized  him  just  as  he  was,  all  lathered  with 
soap-suds,  and  kissed  him  tenderly. 

"Dear  Xavier,  don't  be  vexed,"  she  said.  "To- 
night, after  the  people  are  gone,  we  will  study  your 
plan  ;  you  shall  speak  at  your  ease,  —  I  will  listen  just 
as  long  as  j'ou  wish  me  to.  Is  n't  that  nice  of 
me?  What  do  I  want  better  than  to  be  the  wife  of 
Mohammed  ?  " 


Bureaucracy.  241 

She  began  to  laugh  ;  and  Rabourdin  laughed  too,  for 
the  soapsuds  were  dinging  to  Celestine's  lips,  and  her 
voice  had  the  tones  of  the  purest  and  most  steadfast 
affection. 

"Go  and  dress,  dear  child ;  and  above  all,  don't  say 
a  word  of  this  to  des  Lupeaulx.  Swear  3'ou  will  not. 
That  is  the  only  punishment  that  I  impose  —  " 

''''Impose!  '*she  cried.  "Then  I  won't  swear  any- 
thing." 

"  Come,  come,  Celestine,  I  said  in  jest  a  really  serious 
thing." 

"  To-night,"  she  said,  "  I  mean  yowv  general-secretary 
to  know  whom  I  am  really  intending  to  attack ;  he  has 
given  me  the  means." 

"Attack  whom?" 

"The  minister,"  she  answered,  drawing  herself  up. 
"  We  are  to  be  invited  to  his  wife's  private  parties." 

In  spite  of  his  Celestine's  loving  caresses,  Rabourdin, 
as  he  finished  dressing,  could  not  prevent  certain  painful 
thoughts  from  clouding  his  brow. 

"  Will  she  ever  appreciate  me?  he  said  to  himself. 
"  She  does  not  even  understand  that  she  is  the  sole  in- 
centive of  my  whole  work.  How  wrong-headed,  and  yet 
how  excellent  a  mind  !  —  If  I  had  not  married  I  might 
now  have  been  high  in  office  and  rich.  I  could  have 
saved  half  my  salary  ;  my  savings  well-invested  would 

have  given  me  to-day  ten  thousand  francs  a  year  out- 

16 


242  Bureaucracy, 

side  of  my  office,  and  I  might  then  have  become,  through 
a  good  marriage  —  Yes,  that  is  all  true,"  he  exclaimed, 
interrupting  himself,  ' '  but  I  have  Celestine  and  my  two 
children."  The  man  flung  himself  back  upon  his  hap- 
piness. To  the  best  of  married  lives  there  come  mo- 
ments of  regret.  He  entered  the  salon  and  looked 
around  him.  *'  There  are  not  two  women  in  Paris  who 
understand  making  life  pleasant  as  she  does.  To  keep 
such  a  home  as  this  on  twelve  thousand  francs  a  j^ear !  " 
he  thought,  looking  at  the  flower-stands  bright  with 
bloom,  and  thinking  of  the  social  enjoyments  that  were 
about  to  gratify  his  vanity.  *'  She  was  made  to  be  the 
wife  of  a  minister.  When  I  think  of  his  Excellency's 
■wife,  and  how  little  she  helps  him !  the  good  woman 
is  a  comfortable  middle-class  dowdy,  and  when  she 
goes  to  the  palace  or  into  society  —  "  He  pinched  his 
lips  together.  Very  busy  men  are  apt  to  have  very 
ignorant  notions  about  household  matters,  and  you  can 
make  them  believe  that  a  hundred  thousand  francs 
afibrd  little  or  that  twelve  thousand  aflbrd  all. 

Though  impatiently  expected,  and  in  spite  of  the  flat- 
tering dishes  prepared  for  the  palate  of  the  gourmet- 
emeritus,  des  Lupeaulx  did  not  come  to  dinner  ;  in  fact 
he  came  in  very  late,  about  midnight,  an  hour  when  a 
company  dwindles  and  conversations  become  intimate 
and  confidential.  Andoche  Finot,  the  journalist,  was 
one  of  the  few  remaining  guests. 


Bureaucracy,  243 

"I  now  know  all,"  said  des  Lupeaulx,  when  he  was 
comfortably  seated  on  a  sofa  at  the  corner  of  the  fire- 
place, a  cup  of  tea  in  his  hand  and  Madame  Eabourdin 
standing  before  him  with  a  plate  of  sandwiches  and 
some  slices  of  a  cake  very  appropriatel}'  called  ' '  leaden 
cake."  "  Finot,  m}'  dear  and  witty  friend,  you  can  render 
a  great  service  to  our  gracious  queen  b}'  letting  loose  a 
few  dogs  upon  the  men  we  were  talking  of.  You  have 
against  you,"  he  said  to  Rabourdin,  lowering  his  voice 
so  as  to  be  heard  only  by  the  three  persons  whom  he 
addressed,  "  a  set  of  usurers  and  priests  —  money  and 
the  church.  The  article  in  the  liberal  journal  was  insti- 
gated by  an  old  money-lender  to  whom  the  paper  was 
under  obligations ;  but  the  young  fellow  who  wrote  it 
cares  nothing  about  it.  The  paper  is  about  to  change 
hands,  and  in  three  daj's  more  will  be  on  our  side.  The 
royalist  opposition, —  for  we  have,  thanks  to  Monsieur  de 
Chateaubriand,  a  royalist  opposition,  that  is  to  say, 
royalists  who  have  gone  over  to  the  liberals,  —  however, 
there 's  no  need  to  discuss  political  matters  now,  —  these 
assassins  of  Charles  X.  have  promised  me  to  support 
your  appointment  at  the  price  of  our  acquiescence  in 
one  of  their  amendments.  All  my  batteries  are  manned. 
If  they  threaten  us  with  Baudoyer  we  shall  say  to  the 
clerical  phalanx,  '  Such  and  such  a  paper  and  such  and 
such  men  will  attack  your  measures  and  the  whole  press 
will  be  against  you '  (for  even  the  ministerial  journals 


244  Bureaucracy, 

which  I  influence  will  be  deaf  and  dumb,  won't  they, 
Finot?).  'Appoint  Rabourdin,  a  faithful  servant,  and 
public  opinion  is  with  you  — '" 

"  Hi,  hi !  "  laughed  Finot. 

"  So,  there's  no  need  to  be  uneasy,"  said  des  Lu- 
peaulx.  "  I  have  arranged  it  all  to-night;  the  Grand 
Almoner  must  yield." 

"  I  would  rather  have  had  less  hope,  and  you  to 
dinner,"  whispered  Celestine,  looking  at  him  with  a 
vexed  air  which  might  very  well  pass  for  an  expression 
of  wounded  love. 

"  This  must  win  my  pardon,"  he  returned,  giving  her 
an  invitation  to  the  ministry  for  the  foUowing  Tuesday. 

Celestine  opened  the  letter,  and  a  flush  of  pleasure 
came  into  her  face.  No  enjoyment  can  be  compared  to 
that  of  gratified  vanity. 

"  You  know  what  the  countess's  Tuesdays  are,"  said 
des  Lupeaulx,  with  a  confidential  air.  ' '  To  the  usual 
ministerial  parties  the}^  are  what  the  '  Petit- Chateau' 
is  to  a  court  ball.  You  will  be  at  the  heart  of  power ! 
You  will  see  there  the  Comtesse  Feraud,  who  is  still  in 
favor  notwithstanding  Louis  XVIII.'s  death,  Delphine 
de  Nucingen,  Madame  de  Listomere,  the  Marquise 
d'Espard,  and  your  dear  Firmiani ;  I  have  had  her  in- 
vited to  give  you  her  support  in  case  the  other  women 
attempt  to  black-ball  you.  I  long  to  see  you  in  the 
midst  of  them," 


Bureaucracy.  245 

Celestine  threw  up  her  head  like  a  thoroughbred 
before  the  race,  and  re-read  the  invitation  just  as  Bau- 
doyer  and  Saillard  had  re-read  the  articles  about  them- 
selves in  the  newspapers,  without  being  able  to  quaff 
enough  of  it. 

"  There  first,  and  next  at  the  Tuileries,"  she  said  to 
des  Lupeaulx,  who  was  startled  by  the  words  and  by 
the  attitude  of  the  speaker,  so  expressive  were  they  of 
ambition  and  security. 

"Can  it  be  that  I  am  only  a  stepping-stone?"  he 
asked  himself.  He  rose,  and  went  into  Madame 
Rabourdin's  bedroom,  where  she  followed  him,  under- 
standing from  a  motion  of  his  head  that  he  wished  to 
speak  to  her  privately. 

"Well,  your  husband's  plan,"  he  said;  "what 
of  it?" 

"Bah!  the  useless  nonsense  of  an  honest  man!" 
she  replied.  "  He  wants  to  suppress  fifteen  thousand 
offices  and  do  the  work  with  five  or  six  thousand.  You 
never  heard  of  such  nonsense ;  I  will  let  you  read  the 
whole  document  when  copied;  it  is  written  in  perfect 
good  faith.  His  analysis  of  the  officials  was  prompted 
only  by  his  honesty  and  rectitude,  — poor  dear  man !  " 

Des  Lupeaulx  was  all  the  more  reassured  by  the 
genuine  laugh  which  accompanied  these  jesting  and 
contemptuous  words,  because  he  was  a  judge  of  lying 
and  knew  that  Celestine  spoke  in  good  faith. 


246  Bureaucracy, 

*'But  still,  what  is  at  the  bottom  of  it  all?"  he 
asked. 

*'  Well,  he  wants  to  do  away  with  the  land-tax  and 
substitute  taxes  on  consumption." 

*'  Wh}^  it  is  over  a  year  since  Fran9ois  Keller  and 
Nucingen  proposed  some  such  plan,  and  the  minister 
himself  is  thinking  of  a  reduction  of  the  land-tax." 

"There!"  exclaimed  Celestine,  "I  told  him  there 
was  nothing  new  in  his  scheme." 

*'No;  but  he  is  on  the  same  ground, with  the  .best 
financier  of  the  epoch,  —  the  Napoleon  of  finance. 
Something  may  come  of  it.  Your  husband  must  surely 
have  some  special  ideas  in  his  method  of  putting  the 
scheme  into  practice." 

"  No,  it  is  all  commonplace,"  she  said,  with  a  dis- 
dainful curl  of  her  lip.  "Just  think  of  governing 
France  with  five  or  six  thousand  offices,  when  what 
is  really  needed  is  that  everybodj^  in  France  should  be 
personally  enlisted  in  the  support  of  the  government." 

Des  Lupeaulx  seemed  satisfied  that  Rabourdin,  to 
whom  in  his  own  mind  he  had  granted  remarkable  tal- 
ents, was  really  a  man  of  mediocrity. 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  of  the  appointment?  You  don't 
want  a  bit  of  feminine  advice?"  she  said. 

"You  women  are  greater  adepts  than  we  in  refined 
treachery,"  he  said,  nodding. 

*'  Well,  then,  say  Baudoyer  to  the  court  and  clergy, 


Bureaucracy.  247 

to  divert  suspicion  and  put  them  to  sleep,  and  then,  at 
the  last  moment,  write  Rahourdin.'" 

*'  There  are  some  women  who  say  yes  as  long  as  they 
need  a  man,  and  no  when  he  has  played  his  part,"  re- 
turned des  Lupeaulx,  significantly. 

"I  know  they  do,"  she  answered,  laughing;  "but 
they  are  very  foolish,  for  in  politics  everything  recom- 
mences. Such  proceedings  may  do  with  fools,  but 
you  are  a  man  of  sense.  In  my  opinion  the  greatest 
folly  any  one  can  commit  is  to  quarrel  with  a  clever 
man." 

"You  are  mistaken,"  said  des  Lupeaulx,  "for  such  a 
man  pardons.  The  real  danger  is  with  the  petty  spite- 
ful natures  who  have  nothing  to  do  but  study  revenge, 
—  I  spend  m}'  life  among  them." 

When  all  the  guests  were  gone,  Rabourdin  came  into 
his  wife's  room,  and  after  asking  for  her  strict  atten- 
tion, he  explained  his  plan  and  made  her  see  that  it 
did  not  cut  down  the  revenue  but  on  the  contrary  in- 
creased it ;  he  showed  her  in  what  wa3'S  the  public 
funds  were  employed,  and  how  the  State  could  increase 
tenfold  the  circulation  of  monej^  by  putting  its  own, 
in  the  proportion  of  a  third,  or  a  quarter,  into  the 
expenditures  which  would  be  sustained  by  private  or 
local  interests.  He  finally  proved  to  her  plainl}^  that 
his  plan  was  not  mere  theorj^  but  a  system  teeming 
with  methods  of  execution.     Celestine,  brightly  enthu- 


^48  Bureaucracy, 

siastic,  sprang  into  her  husband's  arms  and  sat  upon 
his  knee  in  the  chimney-corner. 

"  At  last  I  find  the  husband  of  my  dreams ! "  she 
cried.  "My  ignorance  of  3^our  real  merit  has  saved 
you  from  des  Lupeaulx's  claws.  I  calumniated  j^ou  to 
him  gloriousl}^  and  in  good  faith." 

The  man  wept  with  joy.  His  day  of  triumph  had 
come  at  last.  Having  labored  for  years  to  satisfy  his 
wife,  he  found  himself  a  great  man  in  the  eyes  of 
his  sole  public. 

"  To  one  who  knows  how  good  yon  are,  how  tender, 
how  equable  in  temper,  how  loving,  you  are  tenfold 
greater  still.  But,"  she  added,  "a  man  of  genius  is 
always  more  or  less  a  child ;  and  you  are  a  child,  a 
dearly  beloved  child,"  she  said,  caressing  him.  Then 
she  drew  the  invitation  from  that  particular  spot  where 
women  put  what  they  sacredly  hide,  and  showed  it 
to  him. 

"  Here  is  what  I  wanted,"  she  said ;  "  Des  Lupeaulx 
has  put  me  face  to  face  with  the  minister,  and  were  he 
a  man  of  iron,  his  Excellency  shall  be  made  for  a  time 
to  bend  the  knee  to  me." 

The  next  da}-  Celestine  began  her  preparations  for 
entrance  into  the  inner  circle  of  the  ministr}-.  It  was 
her  day  of  triumph,  her  own !  Never  courtesan  took 
such  pains  with  herself  as  this  honest  woman  bestowed 
upon  her  person.     No   dressmaker  was  ever  so  tor- 


Bureaucracy.  249 

mented  as  hers.  Madame  Rabourdin  forgot  nothing. 
She  went  herself  to  the  stable  where  she  hired  car- 
riages, and  chose  a  coupe  that  was  neither  old,  nor 
bourgeois,  nor  showy.  Her  footman,  like  the  footmen 
of  great  houses,  had  the  dress  and  appearance  of  a 
master.  About  ten  on  the  evening  of  the  eventful 
Tuesday,  she  left  home  in  a  charming  full  mourn- 
ing attire.  Her  hair  was  dressed  with  jet  grapes  of 
exquisite  workmanship,  —  an  ornament  costing  three 
thousand  francs,  made  by  Fossin  for  an  Englishwoman 
who  had  left  Paris  before  it  was  finished.  The  leaves 
were  of  stamped  iron-work,  as  light  as  the  vine-leaves 
themselves,  and  the  artist  had  not  forgotten  the  grace- 
ful tendrils,  which  twined  in  the  wearer's  curls  just  as, 
in  nature,  they  catch  upon  the  branches.  The  brace- 
lets, necklace,  and  earrings  were  all  what  is  called 
Berlin  iron-work ;  but  these  delicate  arabesques  were 
made  in  Vienna,  and  seemed  to  have  been  fashioned 
by  the  fairies  who,  the  stories  tell  us,  are  condemned 
by  a  jealous  Carabosse  to  collect  the  eyes  of  ants, 
or  weave  a  fabric  so  diaphanous  that  a  nutshell  can 
contain  it.  Madame  Rabourdin's  graceful  figure,  made 
more  slender  still  by  the  black  draperies,  was  shown 
to  advantage  by  a  carefulh'  cut  dress,  the  two  sides  of 
which  met  at  the  shoulders  in  a  single  strap  without 
sleeves.  At  every  motion  she  seemed,  like  a  butterfly,  to 
be  about  to  leave  her  covering ;  but  the  gown  held  firmly 


250  Bureaucracy. 

on  by  means  of  some  contrivance  of  the  wonderful  dress- 
maker. The  robe  was  of  mousseline  de  laine  —  a  ma- 
terial which  the  manufacturers  had  not  yet  sent  to  the 
Paris  markets ;  a  delightful  stuff  which  some  months 
later  was  to  have  a  wild  success,  a  success  which  went 
further  and  lasted  longer  than  most  French  fashions. 
The  actual  economy  of  mousseline  de  laine,  which  needs 
no  washing,  has  since  injured  the  sale  of  cotton  fabrics 
enough  to  revolutionize  the  Rouen  manufactories.  Ce- 
lestine's  little  feet,  covered  with  fine  silk  stockings 
and  turk-satin  shoes  (for  silk-satin  is  inadmissible  in 
deep  mourning)  were  of  elegant  proportions.  Thus 
dressed,  she  was  very  handsome.  Her  complexion, 
beautified  by  a  bran-bath,  was  softly  radiant.  Her 
eyes,  suflTused  with  the  light  of  hope,  and  sparkling 
with  intelligence,  justified  her  claims  to  the  superiority 
which  des  Lupeaulx,  proud  and  happy  on  this  occasion, 
asserted  for  her. 

She  entered  the  room  well  (women  will  understand 
the  meaning  of  that  expression),  bowed  gracefully  to 
the  minister's  wife,  with  a  happy  mixture  of  deference 
and  of  self-respect,  and  gave  no  offence  by  a  certain 
reliance  on  her  own  dignity  ;  for  every  beautiful  woman 
has  the  right  to  seem  a  queen.  With  the  minister 
himself  she  took  the  pretty  air  of  sauciness  which 
women  may  properly  allow  themselves  with  men,  even 
when  they  are   grand   dukes.     She   reconnoitred   the 


Bureaucracy,  251 

field,  as  it  were,  while  taking  her  seat,  and  saw  that 
she  was  in  the  midst  of  one  of  those  select  parties  of 
few  persons,  where  the  women  eye  and  appraise  each 
other,  and  every  word  said  echoes  in  all  ears ;  where 
every  glance  is  a  stab,  and  conversation  a  duel  with 
witnesses ;  where  all  that  is  commonplace  seems  com- 
moner still,  and  where  every  form  of  merit  or  distinc- 
tion is  silently  accepted  as  though  it  were  the  natural 
level  of  all  present.  Rabourdin  betook  himself  to  the 
adjoining  salon  in  which  a  few  persons  were  playing 
cards ;  and  there  he  planted  himself  on  exhibition,  as 
it  were,  which  proved  that  he  was  not  without  social 
intelligence. 

"  My  dear,"  said  the  Marquise  d'Espard  to  the 
Coratesse  Feraud,  Louis  XVIII.'s  last  mistress,  "  Paris 
is  certainly  unique.  It  produces  —  whence  and  how, 
who  knows?  —  women  like  this  person,  who  seems 
ready  to  will  and  to  do  anything." 

"  She  really  does  will,  and  does  do  everything,"  put 
in  des  Lupeaulx,  puffed  up  with  satisfaction. 

At  this  moment  the  wih'  Madame  Rabourdin  was 
courting  the  minister's  wife.  Carefully  coached  the 
evening  before  hy  des  Lupeaulx,  who  knew  all  the 
countess's  weak  spots,  she  was  flattering  her  without 
seeming  to  do  so.  Every  now  and  then  she  kept 
silence ;  for  des  Lupeaulx,  in  love  as  he  was,  knew 
her   defects,  and  said  to  her  the  night  before,   "  Be 


252  Bureaucracy. 

careful  not  to  talk  too  much,"  —  words  which  were 
really  an  immense  proof  of  attachment.  Bertrand 
Barrere  left  behind  him  this  sublime  axiom :  ' '  Never 
interrupt  a  woman  when  dancing  to  give  her  ad- 
vice," to  which  we  may  add  (to  make  this  chapter 
of  the  female  code  complete),  "  Never  blame  a  woman 
for  scattering  her  pearls." 

The  conversation  became  general.  From  time  to 
time  Madame  Rabourdin  joined  in,  just  as  a  well- 
trained  cat  puts  a  velvet  paw  on  her  mistress's  laces 
with  the  claws  carefully  drawn  in.  The  minister,  in 
matters  of  the  heart,  had  few  emotions.  There  was 
not  another  statesman  under  the  Restoration  who  had 
so  completely  done  with  gallantry  as  he ;  even  the 
opposition  papers,  the  "  Miroir,"  "Pandora,"  and 
"  Figaro,"  could  not  find  a  single  throbbing  artery  with 
which  to  reproach  him.  Madame  Rabourdin  knew  this, 
but  she  knew  also  that  ghosts  return  to  old  castles, 
and  she  had  taken  it  into  her  head  to  make  the  min- 
ister jealous  of  the  happiness  which  des  Lupeaulx  was 
appearing  to  enjo3\  The  latter's  throat  literally  gur- 
gled with  the  name  of  his  divinity.  To  launch  his 
supposed  mistress  successfully,  he  was  endeavoring  to 
persuade  the  Marquise  d'Espard,  Madame  de  Nucingen, 
and  the  countess,  in  an  eight-ear  conversation,  that 
they  had  better  admit  Madame  Rabourdin  to  their 
coalition ;  and  Madame  de  Camps  was  supporting  him. 


Bureaucracy.  258 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  the  minister's  vanity  was  greatl}^ 
tickled ;  Madame  Rabourdin's  cleverness  pleased  him, 
and  she  had  won  his  wife,  who,  delighted  with  the 
siren,  invited  her  to  come  to  all  her  receptions  when- 
ever she  pleased. 

"  For  your  husband,  my  dear,"  she  said,  "  will  soon 
be  director ;  the  minister  intends  to  unite  the  two 
divisions  and  place  them  under  one  director ;  you  will 
then  be  one  of  us,  3'ou  know." 

His  Excellency  carried  off  Madame  Rabourdin  on 
his  arm  to  show  her  a  certain  room,  which  was  then 
quite  celebrated  because  the  opposition  journals  blamed 
him  for  decorating  it  extravagantly  ;  and  together  they 
laughed  over  the  absurdities  of  journalism. 

"  Madame,  3'ou  really  must  give  the  countess  and 
myself  the  pleasure  of  seeing  3'ou  here  often." 

And  he  went  on  with  a  round  of  ministerial  com- 
pliments. 

"  But,  Monseigneur,"  she  replied,  with  one  of  those 
glances  which  women  hold  in  reserve,  "  it  seems  to 
me  that  that  depends  on  you." 

"How  so?" 

**  You  alone  can  give  me  the  right  to  come  here." 

*'Pray  explain." 

*'  No ;  I  said  to  myself  before  I  came  that  I  would 
certainly  not  have  the  bad  taste  to  seem  a  petitioner." 

"  No,  no,  speak  freely.     Places  asked  in  this  way 


254  Bureaucracy, 

are  never  out  of  place,"  said  the  minister,  laughing; 
for  there  is  no  jest  too  silly  to  amuse  a  solemn  man. 

"Well,  then,  I  must  tell  you  plainly  that  the  wife 
of  the  head  of  a  bureau  is  out  of  place  here  ;  a  director's 
wife  is  not." 

"  That  point  need  not  be  considered,"  said  the  min- 
ister, "your  husband  is  indispensable  to  the  adminis- 
tration ;  he  is  already  appointed." 

"  Is  that  a  veritable  fact?  " 

"Would  you  like  to  see  the  papers,  in  my  study? 
They  are  drawn  up." 

"  Then,"  she  said,  pausing  in  a  corner  where  she  was 
alone  with  the  minister,  whose  eager  attentions  were 
now  very  marked,  "let  me  tell  you  that  I  can  make 
you  a  return." 

She  was  on  the  point  of  revealing  her  husband's 
plan,  when  des  Lupeaulx,  who  had  glided  noiselessly 
up  to  them,  uttered  an  angrj^  sound,  which  meant  that 
he  did  not  wish  to  appear  to  have  overheard  what,  in 
fact,  he  had  been  listening  to.  The  minister  gave  an 
ill-tempered  look  at  the  old  beau,  who,  impatient  to 
win  his  reward,  had  hurried,  bej'ond  all  precedent,  the 
preliminary  work  of  the  appointment.  He  had  carried 
the  papers  to  his  Excellency  that  evening,  and  desired 
to  take  himself,  on  the  morrow,  the  news  of  the  ap- 
pointment to  her  whom  he  was  now  endeavoring  to 
exhibit  as  his  mistress.     Just  then  the  minister's  valet 


V  Bureaucracy.  255 

approached  des  Lupeaulx  in  a  mysterious  manner,  and 
told  him, that  his  own  servant  wished  him  to  deliver  to 
him  at  once  a  letter  of  the  utmost  importance. 

The  general-secretary  went  up  to  a  lamp  and  read 
a  note  thus  worded :  — 

Contrary  to  my  custom,  I  am  waiting  in  your  ante- 
chamber to  see  you ;  you  have  not  a  moment  to  lose  if  you 
wish  to  come  to  terms  with 

Your  obedient  servant, 

GOBSECK. 

The  secretary  shuddered  when  he  saw  the  signature, 
which  we  regret  we  cannot  give  in  fac-simile,  for  it 
would  be  valuable  to  those  who  like  to  guess  character 
from  what  maj^  be  called  the  physiognomy  of  signature. 
If  ever  a  hieroglyphic  sign  expressed  an  animal,  it  was 
assuredly  this  written  name,  in  which  the  first  and  the 
final  letter  approached  each  other  like  the  voracious 
jaws  of  a  shark,  —  insatiable,  alwa3's  open,  seeking 
whom  to  devour,  both  strong  and  weak.  As  for  the 
wording  of  the  note,  the  spirit  of  usury  alone  could 
have  inspired  a  sentence  so  imperative,  so  insolent!}' 
curt  and  cruel,  which  said  all  and  revealed  nothing. 
Those  who  had  never  heard  of  Gobseck  would  have 
felt,  on  reading  words  which  compelled  him  to  whom 
they  were  addressed  to  obe^',  yet  gave  no  order,  the 
presence  of  the  implacable  mone3'-lender  of  the  rue 
des  Gres.     Like  a  dog  called  to  heel  by  the  huntsman, 


,    UNTVEESITT 


256  Bureaucracy, 

des  Lupeaulx  left  his  present  quest  and  went  immedi- 
ately to  his  own  rooms,  thinking  of  his  hazardous  posi- 
tion. Imagine  a  general  to  whom  an  aide-de-camp 
rides  up  and  says  :  ' '  The  enemy  with  thirty  thousand 
fresh  troops  is  attacking  on  our  right  flank." 

A  \Q,vy  few  words  will  serve  to  explain  this  sudden 
arrival  of  Gigonnet  and  Gobseck  on  the  field  of  battle, 
—  for  des  Lupeaulx  found  them  both  waiting.  At  eight 
o'clock  that  evening,  Martin  Falleix,  returning  on  the 
wings  of  the  wind,  —  thanks  to  three  francs  to  the  post- 
boys and  a  courier  in  advance,  —  had  brought  back 
with  him  the  deeds  of  the  propert}"  signed  the  night 
before.  Taken  at  once  to  the  Cafe  Themis  by  Mitral, 
these  securities  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  two  usur- 
ers, who  hastened  (though  on  foot)  to  the  ministry.  It 
was  past  eleven  o'clock.  Des  Lupeaulx  trembled  when 
he  saw  those  sinister  faces,  emitting  a  simultaneous  look 
as  direct  as  a  pistol  shot  and  as  brilliant  as  the  flash 
itself. 

"  What  is  it,  my  masters?  "  he  said. 

The  two  extortioners  continued  cold  and  motionless. 
Gigonnet  silently  pointed  to  the  documents  in  his  hand, 
and  then  at  the  servant. 

"  Come  into  my  study,"  said  des  Lupeaulx,  dismiss- 
ing his  valet  by  a  sign. 

"You  understand  French  very  well,"  remarked 
Gigonnet,  approvingly. 


Bureaucracy,  257 

**  Have  3'OU  come  here  to  torment  a  man  who  en- 
abled each  of  you  to  make  a  couple  of  hundred 
thousand  francs?" 

"  And  who  will  help  us  to  make  more,  I  hope/'  said 
Gigonnet. 

''Some  new  affair?"  asked  des  Lupeaulx.  "If 
you  want  me  to  help  you,  consider  that  I  recollect 
the  past." 

"  So  do  we,"  answered  Gigonnet. 

"My  debts  must  be  paid,"  said  des  Lupeaulx,  dis- 
dainfully, so  as  not  to  seem  worsted  at  the  outset. 

"True,"  saidGobseck. 

"  Let  us  come  to  the  point,  my  son,"  said  Gigonnet. 
"  Don't  stiffen  3'our  chin  in  your  cravat ;  with  us  all  that 
is  useless.     Take  these  deeds  and  read  them." 

The  two  usurers  took  a  mental  inventor}-  of  des  Lu- 
peaulx's  study  while  he  read  with  amazement  and  stu- 
pefaction a  deed  of  purchase  which  seemed  wafted  to 
him  from  the  clouds  by  angels. 

"  Don't  you  think  you  have  a  pair  of  intelligent  busi- 
ness agents  in  Gobseck  and  me  ?  "  asked  Gigonnet. 

"  But  tell  me,  to  what  do  I  owe  such  able  co-opera- 
tion? said  des  Lupeaulx,  suspicious  and  uneas}^ 

"  We  knew  eight  days  ago  a  fact  that  without  us  you 

would  not  have  known  till  to-morrow  morning.      The 

president  of  the  chamber  of  commerce,  a  deputj',  as  you 

know,  feels  himself  obliged  to  resign." 

17 


258  Bureaucracy. 

Des  Lupeaulx's  eyes  dilated,  and  were  as  big  as 
daisies. 

"Your  minister  has  been  tricking  you  about  this 
event,"  said  the  concise  Gobseck. 

''  You  master  me/'  said  the  general-secretary,  bowing 
with  an  air  of  profound  respect,  bordering  however,  on 
sarcasm. 

"  True,"  said  Gobseck. 

*'  Can  3'ou  mean  to  strangle  me?" 

"  Tossibly." 

"Well,  then,  begin  your  work,  executioners,"  said 
the  secretary,  smiling. 

"You  will  see,"  resumed  Gigonnet,  "that  the  sum 
total  of  3'our  debts  is  added  to  the  sum  loaned  by  us 
for  the  purchase  of  the  property ;  we  have  bought 
them  up." 

"  Here  are  the  deeds,"  said  Gobseck,  taking  from 
the  pocket  of  his  greenish  overcoat  a  number  of  legal 
papers. 

"  You  have  three  jears  in  which  to  pay  off  the  whole 
sum,"  said  Gigonnet. 

"But,"  said  des  Lupeaulx,  frightened  at  such  kind- 
ness, and  also  by  so  apparentl}*  fantastic  an  arrangement. 
' '  What  do  3'OU  want  of  me  ?  " 

"  La  Billardiere's  place  for  Baudoyer,"  said  Gigonnet, 
quickly. 

"That's  a  small  matter,  though  it  will  be  next  to 


Bureaucracy,  259 

impossible  for  me  to  do  it,"  said  des  Lupeaulx.  "I 
have  just  tied  my  hands." 

"  Bite  the  cords  with  your  teeth,"  said  Gigonnet. 

"  They  are  sharp,"  added  Gobseck. 

"  Is  that  all?  "  asked  des  Lupeaulx. 

"  We  keep  the  title-deeds  of  the  property  till  the 
debts  are  paid,"  said  Gigonnet,  putting  one  of  the 
papers  before  des  Lupeaulx;  "and  if  the  matter  of 
the  appointment  is  not  satisfactorih^  arranged  within 
six  days  our  names  will  be  substituted  in  place  of 
3'ours." 

"  You  are  deep,"  cried  the  secretary. 

"  Exactly,"  said  Gobseck. 

"  And  this  is  all?  "  exclaimed  des  Lupeaulx. 

"All,"  said  Gobseck. 

"You  agree?"  asked  Gigonnet. 

Des  Lupeaulx  nodded  his  head. 

"  Well,  then,  sign  this  power  of  attorney.  Within 
two  days  Baudoyer  is  to  be  nominated ;  within  six  your 
debts  will  be  cleared  off,  and  — " 

"  And  what?  "  asked  des  Lupeaulx. 

'  *  We  guarantee  —  " 

"  Guarantee  !  —  what? "  said  the  secretary,  more  and 
more  astonished. 

"  Your  election  to  the  Chamber,"  said  Gigonnet, 
rising  on  his  heels.  "  We  have  secured  a  majority  of 
fifty-two  farmers'  and  mechanics'  votes,  which  will  be 


260  Bureaucracy. 

thrown  precisely  as  those  who  lend  you  this  money 
dictate." 

Des  Lupeaulx  wrung  Gigonnet's  hand. 

"It  is  only  such  as  we  who  never  misunderstand 
each  other,"  he  said ;  ' '  this  is  what  I  call  doing  busi- 
ness.    I'll  make  you  a  return  gift." 

"  Right,"  said  Gobseck. 

"  What  is  it?  "  asked  Gigonnet. 

"  The  cross  of  the  Legion  of  honor  for  your  imbecile 
of  a  nephew." 

"  Good/'  said  Gigonnet,  "  I  see  you  know  him  well." 

The  pair  took  leave  of  des  Lupeaulx,  who  conducted 
them  to  the  staircase. 

"  They  must  be  secret  envoys  from  foreign  powers," 
whispered  the  footmen  to  each  other. 

Once  in  the  street,  the  two  usurers  looked  at  each 
other  under  a  street  lamp  and  laughed. 

*'He  will  owe  us  nine  thousand  francs  interest  a  year," 
said  Gigonnet;  "that  property  doesn't  bring  him  in 
five." 

"He  is  under  our  thumb  for  a  long  time,"  said 
Gobseck. 

"He'll  build;  he'll  commit  extravagancies,"  con- 
tinued Gigonnet ;  "  Falleix  will  get  his  land." 

"  His  interest  is  only  to  be  made  deputy  ;  the  old  fox 
laughs  at  the  rest,"  said  Gobseck. 

"Hey!  hey!" 


Bureaucracy,  261 

"  Hi !  hi !  " 

These  dry  little  exclamations  served  as  a  laugh  to 
the  two  old  men,  who  took  their  way  back  (alwa3's  on 
foot)  to  the  Cafe  Themis. 

Des  Lupeaulx  returned  to  the  salon  and  found  Ma- 
dame Rabourdin  sailing  with  the  wind  of  success,  and 
very  charming  ;  while  his  Excellency,  usually  so  gloomy, 
showed  a  smooth  and  gracious  countenance. 

"  She  performs  miracles,"  thought  des  Lupeaulx. 
''What  a  wonderfully  clever  woman!  I  must  get  to 
the  bottom  of  her  heart." 

"Your  little  lady  is  decidedly  handsome,"  said  the 
Marquise  to  the  secretary  ;  "  now  if  she  only  had  3^our 
name." 

"Yes,  her  defect  is  that  she  is  the  daughter  of  an 
auctioneer.  She  will  fail  for  want  of  birth,"  replied 
des  Lupeaulx,  with  a  cold  manner  that  contrasted 
strangely  with  the  ardor  of  his  remarks  about  Madame 
Rabourdin  not  half  an  hour  earlier. 

The  marquise  looked  at  him  fixedly. 

"The  glance  you  gave  them  did  not  escape  me," 
she  said,  motioning  towards  the  minister  and  Ma- 
dame Rabourdin  ;  "it  pierced  the  mask  of  j^our  specta- 
cles. How  amusing  you  both  are,  to  quarrel  over  that 
bone ! " 

As  the  marquise  turned  to  leave  the  room  the  minis- 
ter joined  her  and  escorted  her  to  the  door. 


262  Bureaucracy, 

"Well,"  said  des  Lupeaulx  to  Madame  Rabourdin, 
"what  do  you  think  of  his  Excellency?" 

"  He  is  charming.  We  must  know  these  poor  minis- 
ters to  appreciate  them,"  she  added,  slightly  raising 
her  voice  so  as  to  be  heard  b}'  his  Excellency's  wife. 
"  The  newspapers  and  the  opposition  calumnies  are  so 
misleading  about  men  in  politics  that  we  are  all  more 
or  less  influenced  by  them  ;  but  such  prejudices  turn 
to  the  advantage  of  statesmen  when  we  come  to  know 
them  personally. 

"  He  is  very  good-looking,"  said  des  Lupeaulx. 

"  Yes,  and  I  assure  you  he  is  quite  lovable,"  she 
said,  heartil3^ 

' '  Dear  child,"  said  des  Lupeaulx,  with  a  genial, 
caressing  manner;  '^you  have  actuall}^  done  the 
impossible." 

''What  is  that?" 

"  Resuscitated  the  dead,  I  did  not  think  that  man 
had  a  heart ;  ask  his  wife.  But  he  maj^  have  just 
enough  for  a  passing  fancy.  Therefore  profit  by  it. 
Come  this  way,  and  don't  be  surprised."  He  led 
Madame  Rabourdin  into  the  boudoir,  placed  her  on  a 
sofa,  and  sat  down  beside  her.  "You  are  very  sly," 
he  said,  "and  I  like  you  the  better  for  it.  Between 
ourselves,  you  are  a  clever  woman.  Des  Lupeaulx 
served  to  bring  you  into  this  house,  and  that  is  all  you 
wanted  of  him,  isn't  it?    Now  when  a  woman  decides 


Bureaucracy.  263 

to  love  a  man  for  what  she  can  get  out  of  him  it  is 
better  to  take  a  sexagenarian  Excellency  than  a  quad- 
ragenarian secretar}" ;  there 's  more  profit  and  less 
annoyance.  I  'm  a  man  with  spectacles,  grizzled  hair^ 
worn  out  with  dissipation,  —  a  fine  lover,  truly  !  I  tell 
myself  all  this  again  and  again.  It  must  be  admitted, 
of  course,  that  I  can  sometimes  be  useful,  but  never 
agreeable.  Is  n't  that  so  ?  A  man  must  be  a  fool  if  he 
cannot  reason  about  himself.  You  can  safely  admit 
the  truth  and  let  me  see  to  the  depths  of  j^our  heart ; 
we  are  partners,  not  lovers.  If  I  show  some  tender- 
ness at  times,  you  are  too  superior  a  woman  to  pay  any 
attention  to  such  follies;  you  will  forgive  me, — 3'ou 
are  not  a  school-girl,  or  a  bourgeoise  of  the  rue  Saint- 
Denis.  Bah !  3'Ou  and  I  are  too  well  brought  up  for 
that.  There's  the  Marquise  d'Espard  who  has  just 
left  the  room  ;  this  is  precisely  what  she  thinks  and 
does.  She  and  I  came  to  an  understanding  two  j^ears 
ago  [the  coxscomb !],  and  now  she  has  only  to  write 
me  a  line  and  say,  '  M3"  dear  des  Lupeaulx,  you  will 
oblige  me  by  doing  such  or  such  a  thing,'  and  it  is  done 
at  once.  We  are  engaged  at  this  ver}^  moment  in  get- 
ting a  commission  of  lunacy  on  her  husband.  Ah  !  you 
women,  you  can  get  what  3"0U  want  by  the  bestowal  of 
a  few  favors.  Well,  then,  mj^  dear  child,  bewitch  the 
minister.  I  '11  help  3'Ou ;  it  is  my  interest  to  do  so. 
Yes,  I  wish  he  had  a  woman  who  could  influence  him ; 


264  Bureaucracy. 

he  would  n't  escape  me,  —  for  he  does  escape  me  quite 
often,  and  the  reason  is  that  I  hold  him  only  through 
his  intellect.  Now  if  I  were  one  with  a  pretty  woman 
who  was  also  intimate  with  him,  I  should  hold  him  by 
his  weaknesses,  and  that  is  much  the  firmest  grip. 
Therefore,  let  us  be  friends,  you  and  I,  and  share  the 
advantages  of  the  conquest  you  are  making." 

Madame  Rabourdin  listened  in  amazement  to  this 
singular  profession  of  rascality.  The  apparent  art- 
lessness  of  this  political  swindler  prevented  her  from 
suspecting  a  trick. 

"Do  3'ou  believe  he  really  thinks  of  me?"  she 
asked,  faUing  into  the  trap. 

"  I  know  it ;  I  am  certain  of  it." 

"  Is  it  true  that  Rabourdin's  appointment  is  signed?  " 

*'  I  gave  him  the  papers  this  morning.  But  it  is  not 
enough  that  your  husband  should  be  made  director ;  he 
must  be  Master  of  petitions." 

"Yes,"  she  said. 

"Well,  then,  go  back  to  the  salon  and  coquette  a 
little  more  with  his  Excellency." 

"It  is  true,"  she  said,  "  that  I  never  fully  under- 
stood you  till  to-night.  There  is  nothing  commonplace 
about  you.'' 

"  We  will  be  two  old  friends,"  said  des  Lupeaulx, 
"and  suppress  all  tender  nonsense  and  tormenting 
love ;    we    will   take   things   as   they    did   under   the 


Bureaucracy.  265 

Regency.  Ah !  they  had  plenty  of  wit  and  wisdom 
in  those  days !  " 

"You  are  really  strong;  you  deserve  my  admira- 
tion," she  said,  smiling,  and  holding  out  her  hand  to 
him,  "one  does  more  for  one's  friend,  j^ou  know,  than 
for  one's  —  " 

She  left  him  without  finishing  her  sentence. 

"  Dear  creature  !  "  thought  des  Lupeaulx,  as  he  saw 
her  approach  the  minister,  "des  Lupeaulx  has  no 
longer  the  slightest  remorse  in  turning  against  you. 
To-morrow  evening  when  you  offer  me  a  cup  of  tea, 
you  will  be  offering  me  a  thing  I  no  longer  care  for. 
All  is  over.  Ah !  when  a  man  is  forty  years  of  age 
women  ma}'  take  pains  to  catch  him,  but  they  won't 
love  him." 

He  looked  himself  over  in  a  mirror,  admitting  hon- 
estly that  though  he  did  very  well  as  a  politician  he 
was  a  wreck  on  the  shores  of  Cythera.  At  the  same 
moment  Madame  Rabourdin  was  gathering  herself  to- 
gether for  a  becoming  exit.  She  wished  to  make  a 
last  graceful  impression  on  the  minds  of  all,  and  she 
succeeded.  Contrary  to  the  usual  custom  in  society, 
every  one  cried  out  as  soon  as  she  was  gone,  "  What 
a  charming  woman !  "  and  the  minister  himself  took 
her  to  the  outer  door. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  you  will  think  of  me  to-morrow," 
he  said,  alluding  to  the  appointment. 


266  Bureaucracy* 

' '  There  are  so  few  high  functionaries  who  have 
agreeable  wives,"  remarked  his  Excellency  on  re-enter- 
ing the  room,  "that  I  am  very  well  satisfied  with  our 
new  acquisition." 

"Don't  you  think  her  a  little  overpowering?"  said 
des  Lupeaulx  with  a  piqued  air. 

The  women  present  all  exchanged  expressive  glances  ; 
the  rivalry  between  the  minister  and  his  secretarj'  amused 
them  and  instigated  one  of  those  pretty  little  comedies 
which  Parisian  women  play  so  well.  They  excited  and 
led  on  his  Excellency  and  des  Lupeaulx  by  a  series  of 
comments  on  Madame  Rabourdin :  one  thought  her 
too  studied  in  manner,  too  eager  to  appear  clever; 
another  compared  the  graces  of  the  middle  classes  with 
the  manners  of  high  life,  while  des  Lupeaulx  defended 
his  pretended  mistress  as  we  all  defend  an  enemy  in 
society. 

"Do  her  justice,  ladies,"  he  said;  "  io  it  not  ex- 
traordinary that  the  daughter  of  an  auctioneer  should 
appear  as  well  as  she  does  ?  See  where  she  came  from, 
and  what  she  is.  She  will  end  in  the  Tuileries  ;  that  is 
what  she  intends,  —  she  told  me  so." 

"  Suppose  she  is  the  daughter  of  an  auctioneer,"  said 
the  Comtesse  Feraud,  smiling,  "  that  will  not  hinder 
her  husband's  rise  to  power." 

"Not  in  these  days,  you  mean,"  said  the  minister's 
wife,  tightening  her  lips. 


Bureaucracy,  267 

*'  Madame,"  said  his  Excellency  to  the  countess, 
sternly,  "  such  sentiments  and  such  speeches  lead  to 
revolutions ;  unhappily,  the  court  and  the  great  world 
do  not  restrain  them.  You  would  hardly  believe,  how- 
ever, how  the  injudicious  conduct  of  the  aristocracy'  in 
this  respect  displeases  certain  clear-sighted  personages 
at  the  palace.  If  I  were  a  great  lord,  instead  of  being, 
as  I  am,  a  mere  country  gentleman  who  seems  to  be 
placed  where  he  is  to  transact  your  business  for  you, 
the  monarchy  would  not  be  as  insecure  as  I  now  think 
it.  What  becomes  of  a  throne  which  does  not  bestow 
dignity  on  those  who  administer  its  government?  We 
are  far  indeed  from  the  days  when  a  king  could  make 
men  great  at  will,  —  such  men  as  Louvois,  Colbert, 
Richelieu,  Jeannin,  Villeroy,  Sully,  —  Sully,  in  his 
origin,  was  no  greater  than  I.  I  speak  to  you  thus 
because  we  are  here  in  private  among  ourselves.  I 
should  be  very  paltry  indeed  if  I  were  personally 
offended  by  such  speeches.  After  all,  it  is  for  us  and 
not  for  others  to  make  us  great." 

"  You  are  appointed,  dear,"  cried  Celestine,  pressing 
her  husband's  hand  as  they  drove  away.  "If  it  had 
not  been  for  des  Lupeaulx  I  should  have  explained 
your  scheme  to  his  Excellency.  But  I  will  do  it  next 
Tuesday,  and  it  will  help  the  further  matter  of  making 
you  Master  of  petitions." 


268  Bureaucracy. 

In  the  life  of  every  woman  there  comes  a  day  when 
she  shines  in  all  her  glory  ;  a  day  which  gives  her  an  un- 
fading recollection  to  which  she  recurs  with  happiness 
all  her  life.  As  Madame  Rabourdin  took  off  one  by 
one  the  ornaments  of  her  apparel,  she  thought  over  the 
events  of  this  evening,  and  marked  the  day  among  the 
triumphs  and  glories  of  her  life,  —  all  her  beauties  had 
been  seen  and  envied,  she  had  been  praised  and  flat- 
tered b^^  the  minister's  wife,  delighted  thus  to  make 
the  other  women  jealous  of  her ;  but,  above,  all,  her 
grace  and  vanities  had  shone  to  the  profit  of  conjugal 
love.     Her  husband  was  appointed. 

"Did  you  think  I  looked  well  to-night?"  she  said 
to  him,  joyously. 

At  the  same  instant  Mitral,  waiting  at  the  Cafe 
Themis,  saw  the  two  usurers  returning,  but  was  unable 
to  perceive  the  slightest  indications  of  the  result  on 
their  impassible  faces. 

*'  What  of  it?  "  he  said,  when  they  were  all  seated 
at  table. 

"  Same  as  ever,"  replied  Gigonnet,  rubbing  his 
hands,  "  victory  with  gold." 

"  True,"  said  Gobseck. 

Mitral  took  a  cabriolet  and  went  straight  to  the 
Saillards  and  Baudoyers,  who  were  still  playing  boston 
at  a  late  hour.     No  one  was  present  but  the  Abb^ 


Bureaucracy,  269 

Gaudron.  Falleix,  half-dead  with  the  fatigue  of  his 
journey,  had  gone  to  bed. 

"  You  will  be  appointed,  nephew,"  said  Mitral ;  "  and 
there 's  a  surprise  in  store  for  you." 

"  What  is  it?  "  asked  Saillard. 

"  The  cross  of  the  Legion  of  honor?"  cried  Mitral. 

"God  protects  those  who  guard  his  altars,"  said 
Gaudron. 

Thus  the  Te  Deum  was  sung  with  equal  joy  and 
confidence  in  both  camps. 


270  Bureaucracy. 


VIII. 

FORWARD,  MOLLUSKS! 

The  next  daj^,  Wednesday,  Monsieur  Rabourdin  was 
to  transact  business  with  the  minister,  for  he  had  filled 
the  late  La  Billardiere's  place  since  the  beginning  of  the 
latter  s  illness.  On  such  da^'s  the  clerks  came  punc- 
tuall}^,  the  servants  were  specially  attentive,  there  was 
always  a  certain  excitement  in  the  oflSces  on  these  sign- 
ing-days,  —  and  why,  nobody  ever  knew.  On  this  oc- 
casion the  three  servants  were  at  their  post,  flattering 
themselves  they  should  get  a  few  fees  ;  for  a  rumor  of 
Rabourdin's  nomination  had  spread  through  the  minis- 
try the  night  before,  thanks  to  Dutocq.  Uncle  Antoine 
and  Laurent  had  donned  their  full  uniform,  when,  at  a 
quarter  to  eight,  des  Lupeaulx's  servant  came  in  with  a 
letter,  which  he  begged  Antoine  to  give  secretly  to  Du- 
tocq, sa3ang  that  the  general-secretary  had  ordered  him 
to  deliver  it  without  fail  at  Monsieur  Dutocq's  house  by 
seven  o'clock. 

''I'm  sure  I  don't  know  how  it  happened,"  he  said, 
"  but  I  overslept  myself.  I  've  only  just  waked  up,  and 
he  'd  play  the  devil's  tattoo  on  me  if  he  knew  the  letter 


Bureaucracy,  271 

had  n't  gone.  I  know  a  famous  secret,  Antoine ;  but 
don't  say  anything  about  it  to  the  clerks  if  I  tell  you  ; 
promise  ?  He  would  send  me  off  if  he  knew  I  had  said 
a  single  word  ;  he  told  me  so. " 

"  What's  inside  the  letter?  "  asked  Antoine,  eying  it. 

"  Nothing ;  I  looked  this  wa}^  —  see." 

He  made  the  letter  gape  open,  and  showed  Antoine 
that  there  was  nothing  but  blank  paper  to  be  seen. 

"  This  is  going  to  be  a  great  day  for  you,  Laurent," 
went  on  the  secretary's  man.  "  You  are  to  have  a  new 
director.  Econom}'  must  be  the  order  of  the  day,  for 
they  are  going  to  unite  the  two  divisions  under  one  di- 
rector —  you  fellows  will  have  to  look  out !  " 

"Yes,  nine  clerks  are  put  on  the  retired  list,"  said 
Dutocq,  who  came  in  at  the  moment;  "how  did  you 
hear  that?" 

Antoine  gave  him  the  letter,  and  he  had  no  sooner 
opened  it  than  he  rushed  headlong  downstairs  in  the 
direction  of  the  secretary's  office. 

The  bureaus  Rabourdin  and  Baudoj'er,  after  idling 
and  gossiping  since  the  death  of  Monsieur  de  la  Bil- 
lardiere,  were  now  recovering  their  usual  official  look 
and  the  dolcefar  niente  habits  of  a  government  office. 
Nevertheless,  the  approaching  end  of  the  year  did  cause 
rather  more  application  among  the  clerks,  just  as  porters 
and  servants  become  at  that  season  more  unctuously 
civil.    They  all  came  punctualh%  for  one  thing;  more 


272  Bureaucracy. 

remained  after  four  o'clock  than  was  usual  at  other 
times.  It  was  not  forgotten  that  fees  and  gratuities 
depend  on  the  last  impressions  made  upon  the  minds  of 
masters.  The  news  of  the  union  of  the  two  divisions, 
that  of  La  Billardi^re  and  that  of  Clergeot,  under  one 
director,  had  spread  through  the  various  offices.  The 
number  of  the  clerks  to  be  retired  was  known,  but  all 
were  in  ignorance  of  the  names.  It  was  taken  for 
granted  that  Poiret  would  not  be  replaced,  and  that 
would  be  a  retrenchment.  Little  La  Billardiere  had  al- 
ready departed.  Two  new  supernumeraries  had  made 
their  appearance,  and,  alarming  circumstance !  they 
were  both  sons  of  deputies.  The  news  told  about  in  the 
oflSces  the  night  before,  just  as  the  clerks  were  dispersing, 
agitated  all  minds,  and  for  the  first  half-hour  after  ar- 
rival in  the  morning  they  stood  around  the  stoves  and 
talked  it  over.  But  earlier  than  that,  Dutocq,  as  we 
have  seen,  had  rushed  to  des  Lupeaulx  on  receiving  his 
note,  and  found  him  dressing.  Without  laying  down 
his  razor,  the  general-secretary  cast  upon  his  subordi- 
nate the  glance  of  a  general  issuing  an  order. 

*'  Are  we  alone  ?  "  he  asked. 

*'  Yes,  monsieur." 

"Very    good.      March    on    Rabourdin ;    forward! 
steady!    Of  course  3^ou  kept  a  copy  of  that  paper?" 

"  Yes." 

"You  understand  me?     Inde  irce!     There  must  be 


Bute  aucracy.  273 

a  general  hue  and  ciy  raised  against  him.     Find  some 
way  to  start  a  clamor  — " 

"I  could  get  a  man  to  make  a  caricature,  but  I 
haven't  five  hundred  francs  to  pay  for  it." 

"  Who  would  make  it?  '* 

''  Bixiou." 

"  He  shall  have  a  thousand  and  be  under-head-clerk 
to  CoUeville,  who  will  arrange  with  him ;  tell  him  so." 

"  But  he  wouldn't  believe  it  on  nothing  more  than 
my  word." 

*'Are  you  trying  to  make  me  compromise  myself? 
Either  do  the  thing  or  let  it  alone  ;  do  you  hear  me  ?  " 

"  If  Monsieur  Baudoyer  were  director —  " 

"  Well,  he  will  be.  Go  now,  and  make  haste;  you 
have  no  time  to  lose.  Go  down  the  back-stairs  ;  I  don't 
want  people  to  know  you  have  just  seen  me." 

While  Dutocq  was  returning  to  the  clerks'  office  and 
asking  himself  how  he  could  best  incite  a  clamor  against 
his  chief  without  compromising  himself,  Bixiou  rushed 
to  the  Rabourdin  office  for  a  word  of  greeting.  Believ- 
ing that  he  had  lost  his  bet  the  incorrigible  joker  thought 
it  amusing  to  pretend  that  he  had  won  it. 

Bixiou  [mimicking  Phellion's  voice].     Gentlemen,  1 

salute  you  with  a  collective  how  d'  ye  do,  and  I  appoint 

Sunday  next  for  the  dinner  at  the  Rocher  de  Cancale. 

But  a  serious  question  presents  itself.     Is  that  dinner 

to  include  the  clerks  who  are  dismissed? 

18 


274  Bureaucracy, 

PoiRET.    And  those  who  retire? 

Bixiou.  Not  that  I  care,  for  it  is  n't  I  who  pay. 
[General  stupefaction.]  Baudoyer  is  appointed.  I 
think  I  already  hear  him  calling  Laurent  [mimicking 
Baudoyer],  "Laurent!  lock  up  my  hair-shirt,  and  my 
scourge."  [They  all  roar  with  laughter.]  Yes,  yes,  he 
laughs  well  who  laughs  last.  Gentlemen,  there's  a 
great  deal  in  that  anagram  of  CoUeville's.  Xavier  Ha- 
bourdin,  chef  de  bureau  —  D'abord  reva  bureaux,  e-u 
Jin  riche.  If  I  were  named  Charles  X.,  par  la  grace  de 
Dieu  roi  de  France  et  de  N'avarre,  I  should  tremble  in 
my  shoes  at  the  fate  those  letters  anagrammatize. 

Thuillier.     Look  here  !  are  you  making  fun  ? 

Bixiou.  No,  I  am  not.  Rabourdin  resigns  in  a  rage 
at  finding  Baudoyer  appointed  director. 

ViMEUx  [entering].  Nonsense,  no  such  thing !  An- 
toine  (to  whom  I  have  just  been  paying  forty  francs 
that  I  owed  him)  tells  me  that  Monsieur  and  Madame 
Rabourdin  were  at  the  minister's  private  party  last  night 
and  stayed  till  midnight.  His  Excellency  escorted 
Madame  Rabourdin  to  the  staircase.  It  seems  she  was 
divinely  dressed.  In  short,  it  is  quite  certain  that  Ra- 
bourdin is  to  be  director.  Riffe,  the  secretary's  copy- 
ing clerk,  told  me  he  sat  up  all  the  night  before  to  draw 
the  papers  ;  it  is  no  longer  a  secret.  Monsieur  Clergeot 
is  retired.  After  thirty  years'  service  that 's  no  misfor- 
tune.    Monsieur  Cochin,  who  is  rich  — 


Bureaucracy,  275 

Bixiou.     By  cochineal. 

ViMEux.  Yes,  cochineal ;  he 's  a  partner  in  the  house 
of  Matifat,  rue  des  Lombards.  Well,  he  is  retired ; 
so  is  Poiret.  Neither  is  to  be  replaced.  So  much  is 
certain  ;  the  rest  is  all  conjecture.  The  appointment  of 
Monsieur  Rabourdin  is  to  be  announced  this  morning ; 
they  are  afraid  of  intrigues. 

Bixiou.     What  intrigues? 

Fleury.  Baudoyer's,  confound  him  !  The  priests  up- 
hold him  ;  here 's  another  article  in  the  liberal  journal, 
—  only  half  a  dozen  lines,  but  they  are  queer  [reads]  : 

*'  Certain  persons  spoke  last  night  in  the  lobby  of  the 
Opera-house  of  the  return  of  Monsieur  de  Chateaubriand  to 
the  ministry,  basing  their  opinion  on  the  choice  made  of 
Monsieur  Rabourdin  (the  protege  of  the  friends  of  the  noble 
viscount)  to  fill  the  office  for  which  Monsieur  Baudoyer  was 
first  selected.  The  clerical  party  is  not  likely  to  withdraw 
unless  in  deference  to  the  great  writer." 

Blackguards ! 

DuTOCQ  [entering,  having  heard  the  whole  discus- 
sion]. Blackguards!  Who?  Rabourdin?  Then  you 
know  the  news  ? 

Fleury  [rolling  his  eyes  savagelj^].  Rabourdin  a 
blackguard!  Are  j^ou  mad,  Dutocq?  do  you  want  a 
ball  in  your  brains  to  give  them  weight? 

DuTOCQ.  I  said  nothing  against  Monsieur  Rabour- 
din ;  only  it  has  just  been  told  to  me  in  confidence  that 


276  Bureaucracy, 

he  has  written  a  paper  denouncing  all  the  clerks  and 
officials,  and  full  of  facts  about  their  lives ;  in  short, 
the  reason  why  his  friends  support  him  is  because  he 
has  written  this  paper  against  the  administration,  in 
which  we  are  all  exposed  — 

Phellion  [in  a  loud  voice].  Monsieur  Rabourdin  is 
incapable  of  — 

Bixiou.  Very  proper  in  you  to  say  so.  Tell  me, 
Dutocq  [they  whisper  together  and  then  go  into  the 
corridor]. 

Bixiou.     What  has  happened? 

DuTOCQ.  Do  you  remember  what  I  said  to  you  about 
that  caricature? 

Bixiou.     Yes,  what  then? 

DuTOCQ.  Make  it,  and  3'ou  shall  be  under-head-clerk 
with  a  famous  fee.  The  fact  is,  my  dear  fellow,  there  's 
dissension  among  the  powers  that  be.  The  minister  is 
pledged  to  Rabourdin,  but  if  he  does  n't  appoint  Bau- 
do3-er  he  offends  the  priests  and  their  party.  You  see, 
the  King,  the  Dauphin  and  the  Dauphine,  the  clergy,  and 
lastl}'  the  court,  all  want  Baudoyer ;  the  minister  wants 
Rabourdin. 

Bixiou.     Good ! 

Dutocq.  To  ease  the  matter  off,  the  minister,  who 
sees  he  must  give  waj',  wants  to  strangle  the  difficulty. 
We  must  find  some  good  reason  for  getting  rid  of 
Rabourdin.      Now   somebody   has   lately  unearthed  a 


Bureaucracy.  277 

paper  of  his,  exposing  the  present  system  of  administra- 
tion and  wanting  to  reform  it ;  and  that  paper  is  going 
the  rounds, — at  least,  this  is  how  I  understand  the 
matter.  Make  the  drawing  we  talked  of;  in  so  doing 
3'ou  '11  play  the  game  of  all  the  big  people,  and  help  the 
minister,  the  court,  the  clergy, — in  short,  everybody; 
and  3'ou  '11  get  your  appointment.  Now  do  you  under- 
stand me? 

Bixiou.  I  don't  understand  how  you  came  to  know 
all  that ;  perhaps  you  are  inventing  it. 

DuTOCQ.  Do  you  want  me  to  let  you  see  what 
Rabourdin  wrote  about  you? 

Bixiou.     Yes. 

DuTOCQ.  Then  come  home  with  me  ;  for  I  must  put 
the  document  into  safe  keeping. 

Bixiou.  You  go  first  alone.  [Re-enters  the  bureau 
Rabourdin.]  What  Dutocq  told  you  is  really  all  true, 
word  of  honor!  It  seems  that  Monsieur  Rabourdin 
has  written  and  sent  in  very  unflattering  descriptions 
of  the  clerks  whom  he  wants  to  "  reform."  That 's  the 
real  reason  why  his  secret  friends  wish  him  appointed. 
Well,  well ;  we  live  in  days  when  nothing  astonishes 
me  [flings  his  cloak  about  him  like  Talma,  and  de- 
claims] :  — 

"  Thou  who  hast  seen  the  fall  of  grand,  illustrious  heads, 
Why  thus  amazed,  insensate  that  thou  art," 

to  flnd  a  man  like  Rabourdin  employing  such  means  ? 


278  Bureaucracy. 

Baudoyer  is  too  much  of  a  fool  to  know  how  to 
use  them.  Accept  my  congratulations,  gentlemen ; 
either  way  you  are  under  a  most  illustrious  chief 
[goes  off]. 

PoiRET.  I  shall  leave  this  ministry  without  ever 
comprehending  a  single  word  that  gentleman  utters. 
What  does  he  mean  with  his  "heads  that  fall"? 

Fleury.  "Heads  that  fell?"  why,  think  of  the 
four  sergeants  of  Rochelle,  Ney,  Berton,  Caron,  the 
brothers  Faucher,   and  the  massacres. 

Phellion.  He  asserts  very  flippantly  things  that  he 
only  guesses  at. 

Fleury.  Say  at  once  that  he  lies  ;  in  his  mouth  truth 
itself  turns  to  corrosion. 

Phellion.  Your  language  is  unparliamentary  and 
lacks  the  courtes}^  and  consideration  which  are  due  to 
a  colleague. 

ViMEUx.  It  seems  to  me  that  if  what  he  says  is 
false,  the  proper  name  for  it  is  calumny,  defamation  of 
character ;  and  such  a  slanderer  deserves  a  thrashing. 

Fleury  [getting  hot].  If  the  government  offices  are 
public  places,  the  matter  ought  to  be  taken  into  the 
police-courts. 

Phellion  [wishing  to  avert  a  quarrel,  tries  to  turn 
the  conversation].  Gentlemen,  might  I  ask  yow.  to 
keep  quiet?  I  am  writing  a  little  treatise  on  moral 
philosophy,  and  I  am  just  at  the  heart  of  it. 


Bureaucracy.  279 

Fleury  [interrupting].  What  are  3'ou  saying  about 
it,  Monsieur  Phellion? 

Phellion  [reading].  "  Question. — What  is  the  soul 
of  man? 

*'  Answer.  — A  spiritual  substance  which  thinks  and 
reasons." 

Thuillier.  Spiritual  substance  !  3^ou  might  as  well 
talk  about  immaterial  stone. 

Poiret.     Don't  interrupt ;  let  him  go  on. 

Phellion  [continuing].  ''^  Quest. — Whence  comes 
the  soul? 

*'  Ans.  —  From  God,  who  created  it  of  a  nature  one 
and  indivisible ;  the  destructibilit}-  thereof  is,  conse- 
quently, not  conceivable,  and  he  hath  said  —  " 

PoiRET  [amazed].     God  said? 

Phellion.  Yes,  monsieur;  tradition  authorizes  the 
statement. 

Fleury  [to  Poiret].   Come,  don't  interrupt,  yourself. 

Phellion  [resuming].  " —  and  he  hath  said  that  he 
created  it  immortal;  in  other  words,  the  soul  can 
never  die. 

*'  Quest.  — What  are  the  uses  of  the  soul? 

^'^  Ans.  —  To  comprehend,  to  will,  to  remember; 
these  constitute  understanding,  volition,  memory. 

^^  Quest.  — What  are  the  uses  of  the  understanding? 

''  Ans.  — To  know.     Tt  is  the  eye  of  the  soul.'* 

Fleury.     And  the  soul  is  the  eye  of  what  ? 


280  Bureaucracy. 

Phellion  [continuing].  ^^ Quest. — What  ought  the 
understanding  to  know  ? 

"^725. —Truth. 

' '  Quest.  —  Why  does  man  possess  volition  ? 

*'  Ans.  —  To  love  good  and  hate  evil. 

'' Quest.  —  What  is  good? 

*'  Ans.  — That  which  majtes  us  happy." 

ViMEux.  Heavens !  do  you  teach  that  to  young 
ladies? 

Phellion.  Yes  [continuing].  *'  Quest.  —  How  many 
kinds  of  good  are  there  ?  " 

Fleury.     Amazingly  indecorous,  to  say  the  least. 

Phellion  [aggrieved].  Oh,  monsieur!  [Controlling 
himself]  But  here 's  the  answer,  —  that 's  as  far  as  I 
have  got  [reads]  :  — 

'''■Ans.  —  There  are  two  kinds  of  good,  —  eternal 
good  and  temporal  good." 

PoiRET  [with  a  look  of  contempt].  And  does  that 
sell  for  anything? 

Phellion.  I  hope  it  will.  It  requires  great  appli- 
cation of  mind  to  carry  on  a  system  of  questions  and 
answers  ;  that  is  why  I  ask  you  to  be  quiet  and  let  me 
think,  for  the  answers  — 

Thuillier  [interrupting].  The  answers  might  be 
sold  separately. 

PoiRET.     Is  that  a  pun? 

Thuillier.     No  ;  a  riddle. 


Bureaucracy.  281 

Phellion.  I  am  sorry  I  interrupted  3'ou  [he  dives 
into  his  office  desk].  But  [to  himself]  at  any  rate,  I 
have  stopped  their  talking  about  Monsieur  Rabourdin. 

At  this  moment  a  scene  was  taking  place  between 
the  minister  and  des  Lupeaulx  which  decided  Rabour- 
din's  fate.  The  general-secretary  had  gone  to  see  the 
minister  in  his  private  study  before  the  breakfast-hour, 
to  make  sure  that  La  Briere  was  not  within  hearing. 

"  Your  Excellency  is  not  treating  me  frankly  —  " 

"  He  means  a  quarrel,"  thought  the  minister ;  "  and 
all  because  his  mistress  coquetted  with  me  last  night. 
I  did  not  think  you  so  juvenile,  my  dear  friend,"  he 
said  aloud. 

"  Friend  ?  "  said  the  general-secretary,  "  that  is  what 
I  want  to  find  out." 

The  minister  looked  haughtily  at  des  Lupeaulx. 

"We  are  alone,"  continued  the  secretary,  ''and  we 
can  come  to  an  understanding.  The  deputy  of  the 
arrondissement  in  which  my  estate  is  situated  — " 

"  So  it  is  really  an  estate  !  "  said  the  minister,  laugh- 
ing, to  hide  his  surprise. 

"Increased  by  a  recent  purchase  of  two  hundred 
thousand  francs'  worth  of  adjacent  property,"  replied 
des  Lupeaulx,  carelessly.  "  You  knew  of  the  deputy's 
approaching  resignation  at  least  ten  days  ago,  and  you 
did  not  tell  me  of  it.  You  were  perhaps  not  bound  to 
do  so,  but  you  knew  very  well  that  I  am  most  anxious 


282  Bureaucracy. 

to  take  my  seat  in  the  Centre.  Has  it  occurred  to  j-ou 
that  I  might  fling  mj'self  back  on  the '  Doctrine'  ? —  which, 
let  me  tell  you,  will  destroy  the  administration  and  the 
monarchy  both  if  you  continue  to  allow  the  party  of 
representative  government  to  be  recruited  from  men  of 
talent  whom  you  ignore.  Don't  you  know  that  in  every 
nation  there  are  fifty  to  sixty,  not  more,  dangerous 
heads,  whose  schemes  are  in  proportion  to  their  ambi- 
tion ?  The  secret  of  knowing  how  to  govern  is  to  know 
those  heads  well,  and  either  to  chop  them  oflf  or  buy 
them.  I  don't  know  how  much  talent  1  have,  but  I 
know  that  I  have  ambition ;  and  you  are  committing  a 
serious  blunder  when  you  set  aside  a  man  who  wishes 
you  well.  The  anointed  head  dazzles  for  the  time  being, 
but  what  next  ?  —  Why,  a  war  of  words  ;  discussions  will 
spring  up  once  more  and  grow  embittered,  envenomed. 
Then,  for  your  own  sake,  I  advise  you  not  to  find  me  at 
the  Left  Centre.  In  spite  of  3  our  prefect's  manoeuvres 
(instructions  for  which  no  doubt  went  from  here  confi- 
dentiall}')  I  am  secure  of  a  majority.  The  time  has 
come  for  you  and  me  to  understand  each  other.  After  a 
breeze  like  this  people  sometimes  become  closer  friends 
than  ever.  I  must  be  made  count  and  receive  the  grand 
cordon  of  the  Legion  of  honor  as  a  reward  for  my  public 
services.  However,  I  care  less  for  those  things  just 
now  than  I  do  for  something  else  in  which  you  are  more 
personally  concerned.    You  have  not  yet  appointed  Ra- 


Bureaucracy.  283 

bourdin,  and  I  have  news  this  morning  which  tends  to 
show  that  most  persons  will  be  better  satisfied  if  jou 
appoint  Baudoyer." 

"Appoint  Baudoj-er!"  echoed  the  minister.  "Do 
you  know  him?" 

"  Yes,"  said  des  Lupeaulx  ;  "  but  suppose  he  proves 
incapable,  as  he  will,  you  can  then  get  rid  of  him  by 
asking  those  who  protect  him  to  employ  him  elsewhere. 
You  will  thus  get  back  an  important  office  to  give  to 
friends  ;  it  may  come  in  at  the  right  moment  to  facilitate 
some  compromise." 

"  But  I  have  pledged  it  to  Eabourdin." 

"  That  may  be ;  and  I  don't  ask  you  to  make  the 
change  this  very  day.  I  know  the  danger  of  saying 
yes  and  no  within  twenty-four  hours.  But  postpone  the 
appointment,  and  don't  sign  the  papers  till  the  day  after 
to-morrow  ;  by  that  time  you  may  find  it  impossible  to 
retain  Rabourdin,  —  in  fact,  in  all  probability,  he  will 
send  you  his  resignation  —  " 

"  His  resignation? " 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

"  He  is  the  tool  of  a  secret  power  in  whose  interests 
he  has  carried  on  a  system  of  espionage  in  all  the  minis- 
tries, and  the  thing  has  been  discovered  b}^  mere  acci- 
dent. He  has  written  a  paper  of  some  kind,  giving 
short  histories  of  all  the  oflScials.    Everybody  is  talking 


284  Bureaucracy. 

of  it;  the  clerks  are  furious.  For  heaven's  sake,  don't 
transact  business  with  him  to-day;  let  me  find  some 
means  for  you  to  avoid  it.  Ask  an  audience  of  the  King ; 
I  am  sure  \o\i  will  find  great  satisfaction  there  if  you 
concede  the  point  about  Baudoyer ;  and  you  can  obtain 
something  as  an  equivalent.  Your  position  will  be 
better  than  ever  if  3'ou  are  forced  later  to  dismiss  a  fool 
whom  the  court  party  impose  upon  3'ou." 

'*  What  has  made  you  turn  against  Rabourdin?  " 
' '  Would  you  forgive  Monsieur  de  Chateaubriand  for 
writing  an  article  against  the  ministry?  Well,  read 
that,  and  see  how  Rabourdin  has  treated  me  in  his 
secret  document,"  said  des  Lupeaulx,  giving  the  paper 
to  the  minister.  "  He  pretends  to  reorganize  the  gov- 
ernment from  beginning  to  end,  — no  doubt  in  the  inter- 
ests of  some  secret  society  of  which,  as  j-et,  we  know 
nothing.  I  shall  continue  to  be  his  friend  for  the  sake 
of  watching  him  ;  by  that  means  I  ma}^  render  the  gov- 
ernment such  signal  service  that  they  will  have  to  make 
me  count ;  for  the  peerage  is  the  only  thing  I  reallj-  care 
for.  I  want  you  fully  to  understand  that  I  am  not  seek- 
ing office  or  anything  else  that  would  cause  me  to  stand 
in  your  way ;  I  am  simply  aiming  for  the  peerage,  which 
will  enable  me  to  marry  a  banker's  daughter  with  an 
income  of  a  couple  of  hundred  thousand  francs.  And 
so,  allow  me  to  render  you  a  few  signal  services  which 
will  make  the  King  feel  that  T  have  saved  the  throne.     I 


Bureaucracy,  285 

have  long  said  that  Liberalism  would  never  offer  us  a 
pitched  battle.  It  has  given  up  conspiracies,  Carbona- 
roism,  and  revolts  with  weapons  ;  it  is  now  sapping  and 
mining,  and  the  day  is  coming  when  it  will  be  able  to 
say,  '  Out  of  that  and  let  me  in !  '  Do  you  think  I 
have  been  courting  Rabourdin's  wife  for  my  own  pleas- 
ure ?  No,  but  I  got  much  information  from  her.  So 
now,  let  us  agree  on  two  things ;  first,  the  postponement 
of  the  appointment ;  second,  your  sincere  support  of  my 
election.  You  shall  find  at  the  end  of  the  session  that 
I  have  amply  repaid  you." 

For  all  answer,  the  minister  took  the  appointment 
papers  and  placed  them  in  des  Lupeaulx's  hand. 

''  I  will  go  and  tell  Rabourdin,"  added  des  Lupeaulx, 
"that  you  cannot  transact  business  with  him  till 
Saturday." 

The  minister  replied  with  an  assenting  gesture.  The 
secretary  despatched  his  man  with  a  message  to  Ra- 
bourdin that  the  minister  could  not  work  with  him  until 
Saturday,  on  which  day  the  Chamber  was  occupied  with 
private  bills,  and  his  Excellency  had  more  time  at  his 
disposal. 

Just  at  this  moment  Saillard,  having  brought  the 
monthly  stipend,  was  slipping  his  little  speech  into  the 
ear  of  the  minister's  wife,  who  drew  herself  up  and 
answered  with  dignit}-  that  she  did  not  meddle  in  poli- 
tical matters,  and  besides,  she  had  heard  that  Monsieur 


286  Bureaucracy. 

Rabourdin  was  already  appointed.  Saillard,  terri- 
fied, rushed  up  to  Baudoyer's  office,  where  he  found 
Dutocq,  Godard,  and  Bixiou  in  a  state  of  exaspera- 
tion difficult  to  describe ;  for  they  were  reading  the 
terrible  paper  on  the  administration  in  which  they 
were  all  discussed. 

Bixiou  [with  his  finger  on  a  paragraph].  Here  you 
are,  pere  Saillard.     Listen  [reads]  :  — 

"  Saillard.  —  The  office  of  cashier  to  be  suppressed  in 
all  the  ministries  ;  their  accounts  to  be  kept  in  future 
at  the  Treasury.  Saillard  is  rich  and  does  not  need 
a  pension." 

Do  you  want  to  hear  about  your  son-in-law  ?  [Turns 
over  the  leaves.]     Here  he  is  [reads]  :  — 

'-'"  Baudoyer.  —  Utterly  incapable.  To  be  thanked 
and  dismissed.     Rich  ;  does  not  need  a  pension.*' 

And  here  's  for  Godard  [reads]  :  — 

"  Godard.  —  Should  be  dismissed ;  pension  one- 
third  of  his  present  salary." 

In  short,  here  we  all  are.  Listen  to  what  I  am 
[reads]  ;  "  An  artist  who  might  be  employed  b}'  the 
civil  list,  at  the  Opera,  or  the  Menus-Plaisirs,  or  the 
Museum.  Great  deal  of  capacit}^,  little  self-respect,  no 
application,  —  a  restless  spirit."  Ha  !  I  '11  give  you  a 
touch  of  the  artist,  Monsieur  Rabourdin ! 

Saillakd.  Suppress  cashiers !  Why,  the  man 's  a 
monster? 


Bureaucracy,  287 

Bixiou.  Let  us  see  what  he  says  of  our  mysterious 
Desroys.     [Turns  over  the  pages  ;  reads.] 

'''' Desroys.  —  Dangerous;  because  he  cannot  be 
shaken  in  principles  that  are  subversive  of  monarchial 
power.  He  is  the  son  of  a  Conventionel^  and  he  ad- 
mires the  Convention.  He  may  become  a  ver}-  mis- 
chievous journalist." 

Baudoyer.     The  police  are  not  worse  spies ! 

GoDARD.  I  shall  go  to  the  general-secretary  and 
lay  a  complaint  in  form ;  we  must  all  resign  in  a  body 
if  such  a  man  as  that  is  put  over  us. 

DuTOCQ.  Gentlemen,  listen  to  me ;  let  us  be  pru- 
dent. If  you  rise  at  once  in  a  body,  we  may  all  be 
accused  of  rancor  and  revenge.  No,  let  the  thing  work, 
let  the  rumor  spread  quietly.  When  the  whole  min- 
mivy  is  aroused  3'our  remonstrances  will  meet  with 
general  approval. 

Bixiou.  Dutocq  believes  in  the  principles  of  the 
grand  air  composed  by  the  sublime  Rossini  for  Basilio, 
—  which  goes  to  show,  b}^  the  bye,  that  the  great  com- 
poser was  also  a  great  politician.  I  shall  leave  my 
card  on  Monsieur  Rabourdin  to-morrow  morning,  in- 
scribed thus  :  '''•Bixiou;  no  self-respect,  no  application, 
restless  mind." 

GoDARD.  A  good  idea,  gentlemen.  Let  us  all  leave 
our  cards  to-morrow  on  Rabourdin  inscribed  in  the 
same  way. 


288  Bureaucracy, 

DuTOCQ  [leading  Bixiou  apart].  Come,  you  '11  agree 
to  make  that  caricature  now,  won't  you  ? 

Bixiou.  I  see  plainl}^,  my  dear  fellow,  that  you 
knew  all  about  this  affair  ten  days  ago  [looks  him  in 
the  eye].     Am  I  to  be  under-head-clerk  ? 

DuTOCQ.  On  my  word  of  honor,  yes,  and  a  thousand- 
franc  fee  beside,  just  as  I  told  you.  You  don't  know 
what  a  service  you'll  be  rendering  to  powerful  per- 
sonages. 

Bixiou.    You  know  them  ? 

DuTOCQ.     Yes. 

Bixiou.     Well,  then  I  want  to  speak  with  them. 

DuTOCQ  [dryly].  You  can  make  the  caricature  or 
not,  and  you  can  be  under-head-clerk  or  not,  —  as  you 
please. 

Bixiou.  At  any  rate,  let  me  see  that  thousand 
francs. 

DuTOCQ.  You  shall  have  them  when  you  bring  the 
drawing. 

Bixiou.  Forward,  march!  that  lampoon  shall  go 
from  end  to  end  of  the  bureaus  to-morrow  morning. 
Let  us  go  and  torment  the  Rabourdins.  [Then  speak- 
ing to  Saillard,  Godard,  and  Baudoyer,  who  were 
talking  together  in  a  low  voice.]  We  are  going  to 
stir  up  the  neighbors.  [Goes  with  Dutocq  into  the  Ra- 
bourdin  bureau.  Fleury,  Thuillier,  and  Vimeux  are 
there,  talking  excitedly.]     What's  the  matter,  gentle- 


Bureaucracy.  289 

men  ?  All  that  I  told  you  turns  out  to  be  true ;  you 
can  go  and  see  for  yourselves  the  work  of  this  infamous 
informer ;  for  it  is  in  the  hands  of  the  virtuous,  honest, 
estimable,  upright,  and  pious  Baudoyer,  who  is  indeed 
utterly  incapable  of  doing  any  such  thing.  Your  chief 
has  got  every  one  of  3'ou  under  the  guillotine.  Go  and 
see ;  follow  the  crowd ;  money  returned  if  3^ou  are  not 
satisfied ;  execution  gratis  !  The  appointments  are 
postponed.  All  the  bureaus  are  in  arms ;  Rabourdin 
has  been  informed  that  the  minister  will  not  work  with 
him.     Come,  be  off;  go  and  see  for  yourselves. 

They  all  depart  except  Phellion  and  Poiret,  who  are 
left  alone.  The  former  loved  Rabourdin  too  well  to 
look  for  proof  that  might  injure  a  man  he  was  deter- 
mined not  to  judge  ;  the  other  had  only  five  days  more 
to  remain  in  the  office,  and  cared  nothing  either  way. 
Just  then  Sebastien  came  down  to  collect  the  papers 
for  signature.  He  was  a  good  deal  surprised,  though 
he  did  not  show  it,  to  find  the  oflSce  deserted. 

Phellion.  My  young  friend  [he  rose,  a  rare  thing], 
do  you  know  what  is  going  on  ?  what  scandals  are  rife 
about  Monsieur  Rabourdin  whom  you  love,  and  [bend- 
ing to  whisper  in  Sebastien's  ear]  whom  I  love  as  much 
as  I  respect  him.  They  say  he  has  committed  the  im- 
prudence to  leave  a  paper  containing  comments  on  the 
oflacials  lying  about  in  the  ofllce  —     [Phellion  stopped 

short,  caught  the  young  man  in  his  strong  arms,  seeing 

19 


290  Bureaucracy. 

that  he  turned  pale  and  was  near  fainting,  and  placed 
him  on  a  chair.]  "A  key,  Monsieur  Poiret,  to  put 
down  his  back ;  have  you  a  key  ? " 

Poiret.     I  have  the  key  of  my  domicile. 

[Old  Poiret  junior  promptly  inserted  the  said  key 
between  Sebastien's  shoulders,  while  Phellion  gave  him 
some  water  to  drink.  The  poor  lad  no  sooner  opened 
his  eyes  than  he  began  to  weep.  He  laid  his  head  on 
Phellion's  desk,  and  all  his  limbs  were  as  limp  as  if 
struck  by  lightning ;  while  his  sobs  were  so  heartrend- 
ing, so  genuine,  that  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  Poiret's 
feelings  were  stirred  by  the  sufferings  of  another.] 

Phellion  [speaking  firml}^].  Come,  come,  my 
young  friend ;  courage !  In  times  of  ti-ial  we  must 
show  courage.  You  are  a  man.  What  is  the  matter? 
What  has  happened  to  distress  j'ou  so  terribly? 

Sebastien  [sobbing].  It  is  I  who  have  ruined  Mon- 
sieur Rabourdin.  I  left  that  paper  lying  about  when 
I  copied  it.  I  have  killed  my  benefactor :  I  shall  die 
mj^self.  Such  a  noble  man  !  —  a  man  who  ought  to  be 
minister ! 

Poiret  [blowing  his  nose].  Then  it  is  true  he  wrote 
the  report. 

Sebastien  [still  sobbing].  But  it  was  to —  there, 
I  was  going  to  tell  his  secrets  !  Ah !  that  wretch  of  a 
Dutocq ;  it  was  he  who  stole  the  paper. 

His  tears  and  sobs  recommenced  and  made  so  much 


Bureaucracy,  291 

noise  that  Rabourdin  came  up  to  see  what  was  the  mat- 
ter. He  found  the  young  fellow  almost  fainting  in  the 
arms  of  Poiret  and  Phellion. 

Rabourdin.     What  is  the  matter,  gentlemen? 

Sebastien  [struggling  to  his  feet  and  then  falling  on 
his  knees  before  Rabourdin].  I  have  ruined  you,  mon- 
sieur. That  memorandum,  —  Dutocq,  the  monster,  he 
must  have  taken  it. 

Rabourdin  [calmly].  I  knew  that  already  [he  lifts 
Sebastien].  You  are  a  child,  my  young  friend.  [Speaks 
to  Phellion.]     Where  are  the  other  gentlemen? 

Phellion.  Monsieur,  they  have  gone  into  Monsieur 
Baudoyer's  office  to  see  a  paper  which  it  is  said  — 

Rabourdin  [interrupting  him] .  Enough.  [Goes  out, 
taking  Sebastien  with  him.  Poiret  and  Phellion  look 
at  each  other  in  amazement,  and  do  not  know  what 
to  say.] 

Poiret  [to  Phellion] .     Monsieur  Rabourdin !  — 

Phellion  [to  Poiret].     Monsieur  Rabourdin  !  — 

Poiret.     Well,  I  never !     Monsieur  Rabourdin  ! 

Phellion.  But  did  you  notice  how  calm  and  digni- 
fied he  was? 

Poiret  [with  a  sly  look  that  was  more  like  a  gri- 
mace]. I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  there  were  some- 
thing under  it  all. 

Phellion.     A  man  of  honor ;  pure  and  spotless. 

Poiret.     Who  is  ? 


292  Bureaucracy, 

Phellion.  Monsieur  Poiret,  you  think  as  I  think 
about  Dutocq  ;  surely  you  understand  me? 

Poiret  [nodding  his  head  three  times  and  answering 
with  a  shrewd  look].   Yes.    [The  other  clerks  return.] 

Fleury.  a  great  shock;  I  still  don't  believe  the 
thing.  Monsieur  Rabourdin,  a  king  among  men !  If 
such  men  are  spies,  it  is  enough  to  disgust  one  with 
virtue.  I  have  always  put  Rabourdin  among  Plutarch's 
heroes. 

ViMEUx.     It  is  all  true. 

Poiret  [reflecting  that  he  had  only  five  da3's  more 
to  stay  in  the  office].  But  gentlemen,  what  do  you 
say  about  the  man  who  stole  that  paper,  who  spied 
upon  Rabourdin?     [Dutocq  left  the  room.] 

Fleury.     I  say  he  is  a  Judas  Iscariot.     Who  is  he  ? 

Phellion  [significantly].  He  is  not  here  at  this 
moment. 

ViMEUX  [enlightened].     It  is  Dutocq ! 

Phellion.  I  have  no  proof  of  it,  gentlemen.  While 
you  were  gone,  that  young  man,  Monsieur  de  la  Roche, 
nearly  fainted  here.     See  his  tears  on  my  desk ! 

Poiret.  We  held  him  fainting  in  our  arms.  —  My 
key,  the  key  of  my  domicile  !  —  dear,  dear !  it  is  down 
his  back.     [Poiret  goes  hastily  out.] 

ViMEUX.  The  minister  refused  to  transact  business 
with  Rabourdin  to-day ;  and  Monsieur  Saillard,  to 
whom   the   secretary   said  a  few  words,  came   to  tell 


Bureaucracy.  293 

Monsieur  Baudoyer  to  apply  for  the  cross  of  the  Legion 
of  honor,  —  there  is  one  to  be  granted,  you  know,  on 
New-year's  day,  to  all  the  heads  of  divisions.  It  is 
quite  clear  what  it  all  means.  Monsieur  Rabourdin 
is  sacrificed  by  the  very  persons  who  employed  him. 
Bixiou  says  so.  We  were  all  to  be  turned  out,  except 
Sebastien  and  Phellion. 

Du  Bruel  [entering].     Well,  gentlemen,  is  it  true? 

Thuillier.    To  the  last  word. 

Du  Bruel  [putting  his  hat  on  again].  Good-bye. 
[Hurries  out.] 

Thuillier.  He  may  rush  as  much  as  he  pleases  to 
his  Due  de  Rhetore  and  Due  de  Maufrigneuse,  but 
Colleville  is  to  be  our  under-head-clerk,  that 's  certain. 

Phellion.  Du  Bruel  always  seemed  to  be  attached 
to  Monsieur  Rabourdin. 

PoiRET  [returning].  I  have  had  a  world  of  trouble 
to  get  back  my  key.  That  boy  is  crying  still,  and 
Monsieur  Rabourdin  has  disappeared.  [Dutocq  and 
Bixiou  enter.] 

Bixiou.  Ha,  gentlemen !  strange  things  are  going 
on  in  your  bureau.  Du  Bruel !  I  want  you.  [Looks 
into  the  adjoining  room.]     Gone? 

Thuillier.     Full  speed. 

Bixiou.    What  about  Rabourdin  ? 

Fleury.  Distilled,  evaporated,  melted!  Such  a 
man,  the  king  of  men,  that  he  — 


294  Bureaucracy. 

PoiRET  [to  Dutocq].  That  little  Sebastien,  in  his 
trouble,  said  that  you,  Monsieur  Dutocq,  had  taken  the 
paper  from  him  ten  daj's  ago. 

Bixiou  [looking  at  Dutocq].  You  must  clear  3'our- 
self  of  that,  my  good  friend.  [All  the  clerks  look 
fixedly  at  Dutocq.] 

Dutocq.    Where 's  the  little  viper  who  copied  it? 

Bixiou.  Copied  it?  How  did  you  know  he  copied 
it  ?  Ha !  ha !  it  is  only  the  diamond  that  cuts  the  dia- 
mond.    [Dutocq  leaves  the  room.] 

PoiRET.  Would  you  listen  to  me,  Monsieur  Bixiou? 
I  have  only  five  days  and  a  half  to  stay  in  this  ofiice, 
and  I  do  wish  that  once,  only  once,  I  might  have  the 
pleasure  of  understanding  what  3'ou  mean.  Do  me  the 
honor  to  explain  what  diamonds  have  to  do  wijth  these 
present  circumstances. 

Bixiou.  I  meant,  papa,  — for  I'm  willing  for  once 
to  bring  my  intellect  down  to  the  level  of  yours,  —  that 
just  as  the  diamond  alone  can  cut  the  diamond,  so 
it  is  only  one  inquisitive  man  who  can  defeat  another 
inquisitive  man. 

Fleury.     "  Inquisitive  man  "  stands  for  "  spy." 

PoiRET.     I  don't  understand. 

Bixiou.     Very  well ;  try  again  some  other  time. 

Monsieur  Rabourdin,  after  taking  Sebastien  to  his 
room,   had   gone    straight  to  the   minister;    but  the 


Bureaucracy.  295 

minister  was  at  the  Chamber  of  Deputies.  Rabourdin 
went  at  once  to  the  Chamber,  where  he  wrote  a  note 
to  his  Excellency,  who  was  at  that  moment  in  the 
tribune  engaged  in  a  hot  discussion.  Rabourdin  waited, 
not  in  the  conference  hall,  but  in  the  courtyard,  where, 
in  spite  of  the  cold,  he  resolved  to  remain  and  inter- 
cept his  Excellency  as  he  got  into  his  carriage.  The 
usher  of  the  Chamber  had  told  him  that  the  minister 
was  in  the  thick  of  a  controversy  raised  by  the  nineteen 
members  of  the  extreme  Left,  and  that  the  session 
was  likely  to  be  stormy.  Rabourdin  walked  to  and 
fro  in  the  courtyard  of  the  palace  for  five  mortal 
hours,  a  prey  to  feverish  agitation.  At  half-past  six 
o'clock  the  session  broke  up,  and  the  members  filed 
out.  The  minister's  chasseur  came  up  to  find  the 
coachman. 

"  Hi,  Jean  !  "  he  called  out  to  him  ;  "  Monseigneur 
has  gone  with  the  minister  of  war ;  they  are  going  to 
see  the  King,  and  after  that  they  dine  together,  and 
we  are  to  fetch  him  at  ten  o'clock.  There  's  a  Council 
this  evening." 

Rabourdin  walked  slowly  home,  in  a  state  of  despond- 
ency not  difficult  to  imagine.  It  was  seven  o'clock, 
and  he  had  barely  time  to  dress. 

"  Well,  you  are  appointed?"  cried  his  wife,  joyously, 
as  he  entered  the  salon. 

Rabourdin  raised  his  head  with  a  grievous  motion  of 


296  Bureaucracy. 

distress  and  answered,  "  I  fear  I  shall  never  again  set 
foot  in  the  ministry." 

"What?"  said  his  wife,  quivering  with  sudden 
anxiety. 

"  M}^  memorandum  on  the  officials  is  known  in  all  the 
offices ;  and  I  have  not  been  able  to  see  the  minister." 

Celestine's  eyes  were  opened  to  a  sudden  vision  in 
which  the  devil,  with  one  of  his  infernal  flashes,  showed 
her  the  meaning  of  her  last  conversation  with  des 
Lupeaulx. 

"  If  I  had  behaved  like  a  low  woman,"  she  thought, 
"we  should  have  had  the  place." 

She  looked  at  Rabourdin  with  grief  in  her  heart.  A 
sad  silence  fell  between  them,  and  dinner  was  eaten  in 
the  midst  of  gloomy  meditations. 

"  And  it  is  my  Wednesday,"  she  said  at  last. 

"All  is  not  lost,  dear  Celestine,"  said  Rabourdin, 
laying  a  kiss  on  his  wife's  forehead  ;  "  perhaps  to-morrow 
I  shall  be  able  to  see  the  minister  and  explain  every- 
thing. Sebastien  sat  up  all  last  night  to  finish  the  writ- 
ing ;  the  papers  are  copied  and  collated ;  I  shall  place 
them  on  the  minister's  desk  and  beg  him  to  read  them 
through.  La  Briere  will  help  me.  A  man  is  never 
condemned  without  a  hearing." 

"  I  am  curious  to  see  if  Monsieur  des  Lupeaulx  will 
come  here  to-night." 

"He?     Of  course  he  will  come,"  said  Rabourdin; 


Bureaucracy,  297 

"  there 's  something  of  the  tiger  in  him  ;  he  likes  to  lick 
the  blood  of  the  wounds  he  has  given." 

"  My  poor  husband,"  said  his  wife,  taking  his  hand, 
''  I  don't  see  how  it  is  that  a  man  who  could  conceive 
so  noble  a  reform  did  not  also  see  that  it  ought  not  to 
be  communicated  to  a  single  person.  It  is  one  of  those 
ideas  that  a  man  should  keep  in  his  own  mind,  for  he 
alone  can  appl}^  them.  A  statesman  must  do  in  our  po- 
litical sphere  as  Napoleon  did  in  his  ;  he  stooped,  twisted, 
crawled.  Yes,  Bonaparte  crawled  !  To  be  made  com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  Arm}"  of  Italy  he  married  Bar- 
rere's  mistress.  You  should  have  waited,  got  j^ourself 
elected  deputy,  followed  the  politics  of  a  party,  some- 
times down  in  the  depths,  at  other  times  on  the  crest  of 
the  wave,  and  you  should  have  taken,  like  Monsieur  de 
Villele,  the  Italian  motto  '  Col  tempo'  in  other  words, 
*  All  things  are  given  to  him  who  knows  how  to  wait.' 
That  great  orator  worked  for  seven  years  to  get  into 
power ;  he  began  in  1814  by  protesting  against  the 
Charter  when  he  was  the  same  age  that  you  are  now. 
Here  's  3'our  fault ;  you  have  allowed  yourself  to  be 
kept  subordinate,  when  you  were  born  to  rule." 

The  entrance  of  the  painter  Schinner  imposed  silence 
on  the  wife  and  husband,  but  these  words  made  the 
latter  thoughtful. 

"Dear  friend,"  said  the  painter,  grasping  Rabourdin's 
hand,  "  the  support  of  artists  is  a  useless  thing  enough. 


298  Bureaucracy. 

but  let  me  say  under  these  circumstances  that  we  are 
all  faithful  to  j'ou.  I  have  just  read  the  evening  papers. 
Baudoyer  is  appointed  director  and  receives  the  cross 
of  the  Legion  of  honor  —  " 

"  I  have  been  longer  in  the  department,  I  have  served 
twenty-four  years,"  said  Rabourdin  with  a  smile. 

"  I  know  Monsieur  le  Comte  de  Serizy,  the  minister 
of  State,  pretty  well,  and  if  he  can  help  you,  I  will  go 
and  see  him,"  said  Schinner. 

The  salon  soon  filled  with  persons  who  knew  nothing 
of  the  government  proceedings.  Du  Bruel  did  not 
appear.  Madame  Rabourdin  was  gaj^er  and  more 
graceful  than  ever,  like  the  charger  wounded  in  battle, 
that  still  finds  strength  to  carr}^  his  master  from  the 
field. 

"  She  is  very  courageous,"  said  a  few  women  who 
knew  the  truth,  and  who  were  charmingly  attentive  to 
her,  understanding  her  misfortunes. 

"But  she  certainlj^  did  a  great  deal  to  attract  des 
Lupeaulx,"  said  the  Baronne  du  Chatelet  to  the  Vi- 
comtesse  de  Fontaine. 

*'  Do  you  think  "  —  began  the  vicomtesse. 

"If  so,"  interrupted  Madame  de  Camps,  in  defence 
of  her  friend,  "  Monsieur  Rabourdin  would  at  least  have 
had  the  cross." 

About  eleven  o'clock  des  Lupeaulx  appeared ;  and  we 
can  only  describe  him  by  saying  that  his  spectacles  were 


Bureaucracy.  299 

sad  and  his  eyes  joyous  ;  the  glasses,  however,  obscured 
the  glances  so  successfully  that  only  a  physiognomist 
would  have  seen  the  diabolical  expression  which  they 
wore.  He  went  up  to  Rabourdin  and  pressed  the  hand 
which  the  latter  could  not  avoid  giving  him. 

Then  he  approached  Madame  Rabourdin. 

''  "We  have  much  to  say  to  each  other,"  he  remarked 
as  he  seated  himself  beside  the  beautiful  woman,  who 
received  him  admirabl}^ 

"  Ah  ! "  he  continued,  giving  her  a  side  glance,  ''  you 
are  grand  indeed  ;  I  find  you  just  what  I  expected,  glo- 
rious under  defeat.  Do  you  know  that  it  is  a  very  rare 
thing  to  find  a  superior  woman  who  answers  to  the  ex- 
pectations formed  of  her.  So  defeat  does  n't  dishearten 
you?  You  are  right ;  we  shall  triumph  in  the  end,"  he 
whispered  in  her  ear.  ' '  Your  fate  is  always  in  your 
own  hands,  —  so  long,  I  mean,  as  your  ally  is  a  man 
who  adores  3'ou.    We  will  hold  counsel  together." 

*'  But  is  Baudoyer  appointed? "  she  asked. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  secretary. 

" Does  he  get  the  cross?" 

*'  Not  yet ;  but  he  will  have  it  later.'' 

"Amazing!  " 

"  Ah  !  you  don't  understand  political  exigencies." 

During  this  evening,  which  seemed  interminable  to 
Madame   Rabourdin,   another  scene   was  occurring  in 


300  Bureaucracy.' 

the  place  Royale,  —  one  of  those  comedies  which  are 
played  in  seven  Parisian  salons  whenever  there  is  a 
change  of  ministry.  The  Saillards'  salon  was  crowded. 
Monsieur  and  Madame  Transon  arrived  at  eight 
o'clock ;  Madame  Transon  kissed  Madame  Baudoyer, 
nee  Saillard.  Monsieur  Bataille,  captain  of  the  Na- 
tional Guard,  came  with  his  wife  and  the  curate  of 
Saint  Paul's. 

"Monsieur  Baudoyer,"  said  Madame  Transon,  "I 
wish  to  be  the  first  to  congratulate  3'ou ;  they  have  done 
justice  to  3'our  talents.  You  have  indeed  earned  your 
promotion." 

"Here  3'ou  are,  director,"  said  Monsieur  Transon, 
rubbing  his  hands,  "and  the  appointment  is  very  flat- 
tering to  this  neighborhood." 

"  And  we  can  trul}^  say  it  came  to  pass  without  any 
intriguing,"  said  the  worthy  Saillard.  "  We  are  none 
of  us  political  intriguers ;  we  don't  go  to  select  parties 
at  the  ministry." 

Uncle  Mitral  rubbed  his  nose  and  grinned  as  he 
glanced  at  his  niece  Elisabeth,  the  woman  whose  hand 
had  pulled  the  wires,  who  was  talking  with  Gigonnet. 
Falleix,  honest  fellow,  did  not  know  what  to  make 
of  the  stupid  blindness  of  Saillard  and  Baudoyer 
Messieurs  Dutocq,  Bixiou,  du  Bruel,  Godard,  and 
Colleville  (the  latter  appointed  head  of  the  bureau) 
entered. 


Bureaucracy,  301 

*'  What  a  crew  !  "  whispered  Bixiou  to  du  Bruel.  "  I 
could  make  a  fine  caricature  of  them  in  the  shapes  of 
fishes,  —  dorj's,  flounders,  sharks,  and  snappers,  all 
dancing  a  saraband  !  " 

*' Monsieur,"  said  CoUeville,  "I  come  to  offer  you 
my  congratulations  ;  or  rather  we  congratulate  ourselves 
in  having  such  a  man  placed  over  us;  and  we  desire 
to  assure  you  of  the  zeal  with  which  we  shall  co-operate 
in  3'our  labors.  Allow  me  to  say  that  this  event  affords 
a  signal  proof  of  the  truth  of  my  axiom  that  a  man's 
destiny  lies  in  the  letters  of  his  name.  I  may  say  that 
I  knew  of  this  appointment  and  of  your  other  honors 
before  I  heard  of  them,  for  I  spent  the  night  in  ana- 
gram matizing  your  name  as  follows  [proudly]  :  Isidore 
C.  T.  Baudoyer^  —  Director^  decorated  by  us  (his  Ma- 
jesty the  King,  of  course). 

Baudoyer  bowed  and  remarked  piously  that  names 
were  given  in  baptism. 

Monsieur  and  Madame  Baudoyer,  senior,  father  and 
mother  of  the  new  director,  were  there  to  enjoy  the 
glor}^  of  their  son  and  daughter-in-law.  Uncle  Gigon- 
net-Bidault,  who  had  dined  at  the  house,  had  a  restless, 
fidgety  look  in  his  e3'e  which  frightened  Bixiou. 

"  There's  a  queer  one,"  said  the  latter  to  du  Bruel, 
calling  his  attention  to  Gigonnet,  "  who  would  do  in  a 
vaudeville.  I  wonder  if  he  could  be  bought.  Such  an 
old  scarecrow  is  just  the  thing  for  a  sign  over  the  Two 


302  Bureaucracy. 

Baboons.  And  what  a  coat!  I  did  think  there  was 
nobody  but  Poiret  who  could  show  the  like  of  that  after 
ten  years'  public  exposure  to  the  inclemencies  of  Parisian 
weather." 

"  Baudoyer  is  magnificent,"  said  du  Bruel. 

*'  Dazzling,"  answered  Bixiou. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Baudoyer,  "let  me  present  you 
to  my  own  uncle,  Monsieur  Mitral,  and  to  my  great- 
uncle  through  my  wife.  Monsieur  Bidault. 

Gigonnet  and  Mitral  gave  a  glance  at  the  three  clerks 
so  penetrating,  so  glittering  with  gleams  of  gold,  that 
the  two  scoffers  were  sobered  at. once. 

"Hein?"  said  Bixiou,  when  they  were  safely  under 
the  arcades  in  the  place  Royale ;  ' '  did  you  examine 
those  uncles  ?  —  two  copies  of  Shylock.  1 11  bet  their 
money  is  lent  in  the  market  at  a  hundred  per  cent 
per  week.  The}-  lend  on  pawn ;  and  sell  most  that 
they  lay  hold  of,  coats,  gold  lace,  cheese,  men,  women, 
and  children ;  they  are  a  conglomeration  of  Arabs, 
Jews,  Genoese,  Genevese,  Greeks,  Lombards,  and  Pa- 
risians, suckled  by  a  wolf  and  born  of  a  Turkish 
woman." 

"  I  believe  you,"  said  Godard.  "  Uncle  Mitral  used 
to  be  a  sheriff's  oflScer." 

"  That  settles  it,"  said  du  Bruel. 

"I'm  off  to  see  the  proof  of  my  caricature,"  said 
Bixiou ;  "  but  I  should  like  to  study  the  state  of  things 


Bureaucracy,  303 

in  Rabourdin's  salon  to-night.     You  are  lucky  to  be 
able  to  go  there,  du  Bruel." 

"  I !  "  said  the  vaudevillist,  "  what  should  I  do  there? 
My  face  does  n't  lend  itself  to  condolences.  And  it  is 
very  vulgar  in  these  days  to  go  and  see  people  who  are 
down." 


304  Bureaucracy, 


IX. 

THE   RESIGNATION. 

By  midnight  Madame  Kabourdin's  salon  was  de- 
serted ;  onl}"  two  or  three  guests  remained  with  des 
Lupeaulx  and  the  master  and  mistress  of  the  house. 
When  Schinner  and  Monsieur  and  Madame  de  Camps 
had  likewise  departed,  des  Lupeaulx  rose  with  a  myste- 
rious air,  stood  with  his  back  to  the  fireplace  and  looked 
alternately  at  the  husband  and  wife. 

"My  friends,"  he  said,  '"nothing  is  really  lost,  for 
the  minister  and  I  are  faithful  to  you.  Dutocq  simply 
chose  between  two  powers  the  one  he  thought  strong- 
est. He  has  served  the  court  and  the  Grand  Almoner ; 
he  has  betraj'ed  me.  But  that  is  in  the  order  of  things  ; 
a  politician  never  complains  of  treachery.  Neverthe- 
less, Baudoyer  will  be  dismissed  as  incapable  in  a  few 
months  ;  no  doubt  his  protectors  will  find  him  a  place,  — 
in  the  prefecture  of  police,  perhaps,  —  for  the  clergy  will 
not  desert  him." 

From  this  point  des  Lupeaulx  went  on  with  a  long 
tirade  about  the  Grand  Almoner  and  the  dangers  the 
government  ran  in  reljing  upon  the  chnrch  and  upon 


Bureaucracy,  305 

the  Jesuits.  We  need  not,  we  think,  point  out  to  the 
intelligent  reader  that  the  court  and  the  Grand  Almoner, 
to  whom  the  liberal  journals  attributed  an  enormous  in- 
fluence over  the  administration,  had  little  really  to  do 
with  Monsieur  Baudoyer's  appointment.  Such  petty 
intrigues  die  in  the  upper  sphere  of  great  self-interests. 
If  a  few  words  in  favor  of  Baudoyer  were  obtained  by 
the  importunity  of  the  curate  of  Saint-Paul's  and  the 
Abbe  Gaudron,  the}-  would  have  been  withdrawn  imme- 
diately at  a  suggestion  from  the  minister.  The  occult 
power  of  the  Congregation  of  Jesus  (admissible  certainly 
as  confronting  the  bold  society  of  the  ''Doctrine,"  en- 
titled "  Help  yourself  and  heaven  will  help  you,")  was 
formidable  only  through  the  imaginary  force  conferred 
on  it  by  subordinate  powers  who  perpetually  threatened 
each  other  with  its  evils.  The  liberal  scandal-mongers 
delighted  in  representing  the  Grand  Almoner  and  the 
whole  Jesuitical  Chapter  as  political,  administrative, 
civil,  and  military  giants.  Fear  creates  bugbears.  At 
this  crisis  Baudoyer  firmly  believed  in  the  said  Chap- 
ter, little  aware  that  the  only  Jesuits  who  had  put  him 
where  he  now  was  sat  by  his  own  fireside,  and  in  the 
Cafe  Themis  playing  dominoes. 

At  certain  epochs  in  history  certain  powers  appear, 
to  whom  all  evils  are  attributed,  though  at  the  same 
time   their  genius   is   denied ;    they  form  an   efficient 

argument  in  the  mouth  of  fools.     Just  as  Monsieur  de 

20 


306  Bureaucracy, 

Talleyrand  was  supposed  to  hail  all  events  of  whatever 
kind  with  a  bon  mot^  so  in  these  days  of  the  Restora- 
tion the  clerical  party  had  the  credit  of  doing  and 
undoing  everything.  Unfortunatelj^,  it  did  and  undid 
nothing.  Its  influence  was  not  wielded  by  a  Cardinal 
Richelieu  or  a  Cardinal  Mazarin ;  it  was  in  the  hands 
of  a  species  of  Cardinal  de  Fleury,  who,  timid  for  over 
five  years,  turned  bold  for  one  day,  injudiciously  bold. 
Later  on,  the  "Doctrine"  did  more,  with  impunity,  at 
Saint-Merri,  than  Charles  X.  pretended  to  do  in  July, 
1830.  If  the  section  on  the  censorship  so  foolishly 
introduced  into  the  new  charter  had  been  omitted, 
journalism  also  would  have  had  its  Saint-Merri.  The 
younger  Branch  could  have  legally  carried  out  Charles 
X.'s  plan. 

"  Remain  where  you  are,  head  of  a  bureau  under 
Baudoyer,"  went  on  des  Lupeaulx.  "  Have  the  nerve 
to  do  this ;  make  3'ourself  a  true  politician ;  put  ideas 
and  generous  impulses  aside  ;  attend  only  to  your  func- 
tions ;  don't  say  a  word  to  3'our  new  director ;  don't 
help  him  with  a  suggestion ;  and  do  nothing  yourself 
without  his  order.  In  three  months  Baudoyer  will  be 
out  of  the  ministry,  either  dismissed,  or  stranded  on 
some  other  administrative  shore.  They  may  attach 
him  to  the  king's  household.  Twice  in  mj-  life  I  have 
been  set  aside  as  3'ou  are,  and  overwhelmed  by  an  ava- 
lanche of  folly  ;  I  have  quietly  waited  and  let  it  pass." 


Bureaucracy.  307 

*'  Yes,"  said  Rabourdin,  "  but  you  were  not  calumni- 
ated ;  your  honor  was  not  assailed,  compromised  —  " 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  "  cried  des  Lupeaulx,  interrupting  him 
with  a  burst  of  Homeric  laughter.  "  Why,  that's  the 
daily  bread  of  every  remarkable  man  in  this  glorious 
kingdom  of  France !  And  there  are  but  two  ways  to 
meet  such  calumn}-,  —  either  yield  to  it,  pack  up,  and 
go  plant  cabbages  iu  the  country ;  or  else  rise  above  it, 
march  on,  fearless,  and  don't  turn  your  head." 

"For  me,  there  is  but  one  way  of  untying  the  noose 
which  treachery  and  the  work  of  spies  have  fastened 
round  my  throat,"  replied  Rabourdin.  ' '  I  must  ex- 
plain the  matter  at  once  to  his  Excellency,  and  if  you 
are  as  sincerely  attached  to  me  as  you  say  you  are, 
you  will  put  me  face  to  face  with  him  to-morrow." 

"  You  mean  that  you  wish  to  explain  to  him  your 
plan  for  the  reform  of  the  service  ? " 

Rabourdin  bowed. 

"  Well,  then,  trust  the  papers  with  me,  —  your  memo- 
randa, all  the  documents.  I  promise  3'ou  that  he  shall 
sit  up  all  night  and  examine  them." 

"  Let  us  go  to  him,  then  !  "  cried  Rabourdin,  eagerly  ; 
"six  years'  toil  certainly  deserves  two  or  three  hours 
attention  from  the  king's  minister,  who  will  be  forced  to 
recognize,  if  he  does  not  applaud,  such  perseverance." 

Compelled  by  Rabourdin's  tenacity  to  take  a  straight- 
forward   path,   without    ambush  or   angle   where  his 


308  Bureaucracy, 

treachery  could  hide  itself,  des  Lupeaulx  hesitated  for 
a  single  instant,  and  looked  at  Madame  Rabourdin, 
while  he  inwardly  asked  himself,  "  Which  shall  I 
permit  to  triumph,  my  hatred  for  him,  or  my  fancy 
for  her?" 

"You  have  no  confidence  in  mj^  honor,"  he  said, 
after  a  pause.  "I  see  that  you  will  always  be  to  me  the 
author  of  your  secret  analysis.    Adieu,  madame." 

Madame  Rabourdin  bowed  coldly.  Celestine  and 
Xavier  returned  at  once  to  their  own  rooms  without 
a  word  ;  both  were  overcome  by  their  misfortune.  The 
wife  thought  of  the  dreadful  situation  in  which  she 
stood  toward  her  husband.  The  husband,  resolving 
slowly  not  to  remain  at  the  ministry  but  to  send  in  his 
resignation  at  once,  was  lost  in  a  sea  of  reflections ; 
the  crisis  for  him  meant  a  total  change  of  life  and  the 
necessity  of  starting  on  a  new  career.  All  night  he  sat 
before  his  fire,  taking  no  notice  of  Celestine,  who  came 
in  several  times  on  tiptoe,  in  her  night-dress. 

"  I  must  go  once  more  to  the  ministry,  to  bring  away 
my  papers,  and  show  Baudo^^er  the  routine  of  the  busi- 
ness," he  said  to  himself  at  last.  ' '  I  had  better  write 
my  resignation  now." 

He  turned  to  his  table  and  began  to  write,  thinking 
over  each  clause  of  the  letter,  which  was  as  follows :  — 

MoNSEiGNEUR,  —  I  havG  the  honor  to  inclose  to  your 
Excellency  my  resignation.     I  venture  to  hope  that  you  still 


Bureaucracy.  309 

remember  hearing  me  say  that  I  left  my  honor  in  your  hands, 
and  that  everything,  for  me,  depended  on  my  being  able  to 
give  you  an  immediate  explanation. 

This  explanation  I  have  vainly  sought  to  give.  To-day  it 
would,  perhaps,  be  useless;  for  a  fragment  of  my  work  re- 
lating to  the  administration,  stolen  and  misused,  has  gone 
the  rounds  of  the  offices  and  is  misinterpreted  by  hatred; 
in  consequence,  I  find  myself  compelled  to  resign,  under  the 
tacit  condemnation  of  my  superiors. 

Your  Excellency  may  have  thought,  on  the  morning  when 
I  first  sought  to  speak  with  you,  that  my  purpose  was  to  ask 
for  my  promotion,  when,  in  fact,  I  was  thinking  only  of  the 
glory  and  usefulness  of  your  ministry  and  of  the  public  good. 
It  is  all-important,  I  think,  to  correct  that  impression. 

Then  followed  the  usual  epistolary  formulas. 

It  was  half-past  seven  in  the  morning  when  the  man 
consummated  the  sacrifice  of  his  ideas ;  he  burned 
everything,  the  toil  of  years.  Fatigued  by  the  pressure 
of  thought,  overcome  by  mental  suffering,  he  fell  asleep 
with  his  head  on  the  back  of  his  armchair.  He  was 
wakened  by  a  curious  sensation,  and  found  his  hands 
covered  with  his  wife's  tears  and  saw  her  kneeling  before 
him.  Celestine  had  read  the  resignation.  She  could 
measure  the  depth  of  his  fall.  They  were  now  to  be 
reduced  to  live  on  four  thousand  francs  a  year;  and 
that  day  she  had  counted  up  her  debts,  —  they  amounted 
to  something  like  thirty-two  thousand  francs !  The 
most  ignoble  of  all  wretchedness  had  come  upon  them. 
And  that  noble  man  who  had  trusted  her  was  ignorant 


310  Bureaucracy. 

that  she  had  abused  the  fortune  he  had  confided  to  her 
care.  She  was  sobbing  at  his  feet,  beautiful  as  the 
Magdalen. 

"  My  cup  is  full,"  cried  Xavier,  in  his  terror.  "  I 
am  dishonored  at  the  ministrj^,  and  dishonored  —  " 

The  light  of  her  pure  honor  flashed  from  Celestine*s 
eyes ;  she  sprang  up  like  a  startled  horse  and  cast  a 
fulminating  glance  at  Rabourdin. 

*'I!  I!"  she  said,  on  two  sublime  tones.  "Am  I 
a  base  wife?  If  I  were,  you  would  have  been  ap- 
pointed. But,"  she  added,  mournfully,  "  it  is  easier  to 
believe  that  than  to  believe  what  is  the  truth." 

"  Then  what  is  it?  "  said  Rabourdin. 

*'A11  in  three  words,"  she  said;  "I  owe  thirty 
thousand  francs." 

Rabourdin  caught  his  wife  to  his  heart  with  a  gesture 
of  almost  frantic  joy,  and  seated  her  on  his  knee. 

"Take  comfort,  dear,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  voice 
so  adorably  kind  that  the  bitterness  of  her  grief  was 
changed  to  something  inexpressibly  tender.  "  I  too 
have  made  mistakes ;  I  have  worked  uselessly  for  my 
country  when  I  thought  I  was  being  useful  to  her. 
But  now  I  mean  to  take  another  path.  If  I  had  sold 
groceries  we  should  now  be  millionnaires.  "Well,  let  us 
be  grocers.  You  are  only  twenty-eight,  dear  angel; 
in  ten  j^ears  you  shall  recover  the  luxury  that  you  love, 
which  we  must  needs  renounce  for  a  short  time.     I,  too, 


Bureaucracy.  311 

dear  heart,  am  not  a  base  or  common  husband.  We 
will  sell  our  farm  ;  its  value  has  increased  of  late.  That 
and  the  sale  of  our  furniture  will  pay  my  debts." 

My  debts  !  Celestine  embraced  her  husband  a  thou- 
sand times  in  the  single  kiss  with  which  she  thanked 
him  for  that  generous  word. 

"  We  shall  still  have  a  hundred  thousand  francs  to 
put  into  business.  Before  the  month  is  out  I  shall 
find  some  favorable  opening.  If  luck  gave  a  Martin 
Falleix  to  a  Saillard,  why  should  we  despair?  Wait 
breakfast  for  me.  I  am  going  now  to  the  ministry, 
but  I  shall  come  back  with  my  neck  free  of  the 
yoke." 

Celestine  clasped  her  husband  in  her  arms  with  a 
force  men  do  not  possess,  even  in  their  passionate 
moments ;  for  women  are  stronger  through  emotion 
than  men  through  power.  She  wept  and  laughed  and 
sobbed  in  turns. 

When  Rabourdin  left  the  house  at  eight  o'clock, 
the  porter  gave  him  the  satirical  cards  suggested  by 
Bixiou.  Nevertheless,  he  went  to  the  ministry,  where 
he  found  S^bastien  waiting  near  the  door  to  entreat 
him  not  to  enter  any  of  the  bureaus,  because  an  in- 
famous caricature  of  him  was  making  the  round  of  the 
oflaces. 

"  If  you  wish  to  soften  the  pain  of  my  downfall,"  he 
said  to  the  lad,  "  bring  me  that  drawing;  I  am  now 


312  BureaucrcLcy. 

taking  my  resignation  to  Ernest  de  la  Briere  myself, 
that  it  may  not  be  altered  or  distorted  while  passing 
through  the  routine  channels.  I  have  my  own  reasons 
for  wishing  to  see  that  caricature." 

When  Rabourdin  came  back  to  the  courtyard,  after 
making  sure  that  his  letter  would  go  straight  into  the 
minister's  hands,  he  found  Sebastien  in  tears,  with  a 
cop\'  of  the  lithograph,  which  the  lad  reluctantly  handed 
over  to  him. 

"  It  is  very  clever,"  said  Rabourdin,  showing  a  serene 
brow  to  his  companion,  though  the  crown  of  thorns  was 
on  it  all  the  same. 

He  entered  the  bureaus  with  a  calm  air,  and  went  at 
once  into  Baudoyer's  section  to  ask  him  to  come  to  the 
oflSce  of  the  head  of  the  di\'ision  and  receive  instruc- 
tions as  to  the  business  which  that  incapable  being  was 
henceforth  to  direct. 

"  Tell  Monsieur  Baudoyer  that  there  must  be  no 
delay,"  he  added,  in  the  hearing  of  all  the  clerks ;  *'  my 
resignation  is  already  in  the  minister's  hands,  and  I  do 
not  wish  to  stay  here  longer  than  is  necessary." 

Seeing  Bixiou,  Rabourdin  went  straight  up  to  him, 
showed  him  the  lithograph,  and  said,  to  the  great  aston- 
ishment of  all  present,  — 

''Was  I  not  right  in  saying  you  were  an  artist? 
Still,  it  is  a  pity  you  directed  the  point  of  your  pencil 
against  a  man  who  cannot  be  judged  in  this  way,  nor 


Bureaucracy.  813 

indeed  by  the  bureaus  at  all ;  —  but  everything  is 
laughed  at  in  France,  even  God." 

Then  he  took  Baudoyer  into  the  office  of  the  late  La 
Billardiere.  At  the  door  he  found  Phellion  and  Sebas- 
tien,  the  only  two  who,  under  his  great  disaster,  dared 
to  remain  openly  faithful  to  the  fallen  man.  Rabourdin 
noticed  that  Phellion's  ej'es  were  moist,  and  he  could  not 
refrain  from  wringing  his  hand. 

"Monsieur,"  said  the  good  man,  "if  we  can  serve 
you  in  any  wa}*,  make  use  of  us." 

Monsieur  Rabourdin  shut  himself  up  in  the  late 
chiefs  office  with  Monsieur  Baudoyer,  and  Phellion 
helped  him  to  show  the  new  incumbent  all  the  ad- 
ministrativ^e  difficulties  of  his  new  position.  At  each 
separate  affair  which  Rabourdin  carefully  explained, 
Baudoj'er's  Uttle  eyes  grew  as  big  as  saucers. 

"Farewell,  monsieur,"  said  Rabourdin  at  last,  with 
a  manner  that  was  half-solemn,  half-satirical. 

Sebastien  meanwhile  had  made  up  a  package  of  pa- 
pers and  letters  belonging  to  his  chief  and  had  carried 
them  awa}'  in  a  hackne}'  coach.  Rabourdin  passed 
through  the  grand  courtyard,  while  all  the  clerks  were 
watching  from  the  windows,  and  waited  there  a  moment 
to  see  if  the  minister  would  send  him  any  message. 
His  Excellency  was  dumb.  Phellion  courageously  es- 
corted the  fallen  man  to  his  home,  expressing  his  feel- 
ings of  respectful  admiration ;  then  he  returned  to  the 


814  Bureaucracy. 

oflSce,  and  took  up  his  work,  satisfied  with  his  own  con- 
duct in  rendering  these  funeral  honors  to  neglected  and 
misjudged  administrative  talent. 

Bixiou  [seeing  PheUion  re-enter].  Yictrix  causa 
diis  placuit,  sed  victa  Catoni. 

Phellion.     Yes,  monsieur. 

PoiRET.    What  does  that  mean  ? 

Fleury.  That  priests  rejoice,  and  Monsieur  Rabour- 
din  has  the  respect  of  men  of  honor. 

DuTOCQ  [annoj'ed].     You  didn't  say  that  yesterdaj^ 

Fleury.  If  you  address  me  3'ou  'II  have  my  hand  in 
5'our  face.  It  is  known  for  certain  that  3'ou  filched 
those  papers  from  Monsieur  Rabourdin.  [Dutocq  leaves 
the  oflSce.]  Oh,  yes,  go  and  complain  to  your  Monsieur 
des  Lupeaulx,  spy ! 

Bixiou  [laughing  and  grimacing  like  a  monke}'].  I 
am  curious  to  know  how  the  division  will  get  along. 
Monsieur  Rabourdin  is  so  remarkable  a  man  that  he 
must  have  had  some  special  views  in  that  work  of  his. 
Well,  the  minister  loses  a  fine  mind.    [Rubs  his  hands.] 

Laurent  [entering].  Monsieur  Fleury  is  requested 
to  go  to  the  secretary's  office. 

All  the  clerks.     "  Done  for ! " 

Fleury  [leaving  the  room] .  I  don't  care  ;  I  am  of- 
fered a  place  as  responsible  editor.  I  shall  have  all  my 
time  to  myself  to  lounge  the  streets  or  do  amusing  work 
in  a  newspaper  oflSce. 


Bureaucracy,  315 

Bixiou.  Dutocq  has  alread}-  made  them  cut  off  the 
head  of  that  poor  Desroys. 

CoLLEViLLE  [entering  joyously].  Gentlemen,  I  am 
appointed  head  of  this  bureau. 

Thuilliek.  Ah,  my  friend,  if  it  were  I  myself,  I 
could  n't  be  better  pleased. 

Bixiou.     His  wife  has  managed  it  [laughter]. 

PoiRET.  Will  any  one  tell  me  the  meaning  of  all  that 
is  happening  here  this  day  ? 

Bixiou.  Do  you  really  want  to  know?  Then  listen. 
The  antechamber  to  the  administration  is  henceforth  a 
chamber,  the  court  is  a  boudoir,  the  best  wa}'  to  get  in 
is  through  the  cellar,  and  the  bed  is  more  than  ever  a 
cross-cut. 

PoiRET.    Monsieur  Bixiou,  may  I  entreat  j'ou,  explain  ? 

Bixiou.  I'll  paraphrase  m}"  opinion.  To  be  any- 
thing at  all  3'ou  must  begin  by  being  everything.  It  is 
quite  certain  that  a  reform  of  the  service  is  needed ;  for 
on  m}'  word  of  honor,  the  State  robs  the  poor  officials  as 
much  as  the  officials  rob  the  State  in  the  matter  of 
hours.  But  why  is  it  that  we  idle  as  we  do?  because 
they  pa}*  us  too  little  ;  and  the  reason  of  that  is  we  are 
too  man}'  for  the  work,  and  your  late  chief,  the  virtuous 
Rabourdin,  saw  all  this  plainly.  That  great  adminis- 
trator, —  for  he  was  that,  gentlemen,  —  saw  what  the 
thing  is  coming  to,  the  thing  that  these  idiots  call  the 
''  working  of  our  admirable  institutions."    The  chamber 


816  Bureaucracy. 

will  want  before  long  to  administrate,  and  the  adminis- 
trators will  want  to  legislate.  The  government  will  try 
to  administrate  and  the  administrators  will  want  to 
govern,  and  so  it  will  go  on.  Laws  will  come  to  be 
mere  regulations,  and  ordinances  will  be  thought  laws. 
God  made  this  epoch  of  the  world  for  those  who  like  to 
laugh.  I  live  in  a  state  of  jovial  admiration  of  the  spec- 
tacle which  the  greatest  joker  of  modern  times,  Louis 
XVIII. ,  bequeathed  to  us  [general  stupefaction].  Gen- 
tlemen, if  France,  the  country  with  the  best  civil  service 
in  Europe,  is  managed  thus,  what  do  3^ou  suppose  the 
other  countries  are  like  ?  Poor  unhappy  nations  !  I  ask 
myself  how  they  can  possibly  get  along  without  two 
Chambers,  without  the  liberty  of  the  press,  without  re- 
ports, without  circulars  even,  without  an  army  of  clerks? 
Dear,  dear,  how  do  you  suppose  they  have  armies  and 
navies  ?  how  can  they  exist  at  all  without  political  dis- 
cussions? Can  the}^  even  be  called  nations,  or  govern- 
ments? It  is  said  (mere  traveller's  tales)  that  these 
strange  peoples  claim  to  have  a  policy,  to  wield  a  cer- 
tain influence;  but  that's  absurd!  how  can  they  when 
they  have  n't  "  progress  "  or  "  new  lights  "  ?  They  can't 
stir  up  ideas,  they  have  n't  an  independent  forum ; 
they  are  still  in  the  twilight  of  barbarism.  There  are 
no  people  in  the  world  but  the  French  people  who 
have  ideas.  Can  you  understand.  Monsieur  Poiret 
[Poiret  jumped  as  if  he  had  been  shot] ,  how  a  nation 


Bureaucracy.  317 

can  do  without  heads  of  divisions,  general-secretaries 
and  directors,  and  all  this  splendid  array  of  offi- 
cials, the  glorj^  of  France  and  of  the  Emperor  Napo- 
leon, —  who  had  his  own  good  reasons  for  creating  a 
myriad  of  offices  ?  I  don't  see  how  those  nations  have 
the  audacity  to  live  at  all.  There  's  Austria,  which  has 
less  than  a  hundred  clerks  in  her  war  ministry,  while 
the  salaries  and  pensions  of  ours  amount  to  a  third  of 
our  whole  budget,  a  thing  that  was  unheard  of  before 
the  Revolution.  I  sum  up  all  I  've  been  saying  in  one 
single  remark,  namely,  that  the  Academy  of  Inscrip- 
tions and  Belles-lettres,  which  seems  to  have  very  little 
to  do,  had  better  offer  a  prize  for  the  ablest  answer  to  the 
following  question  :  Which  is  the  best  organized  State  ; 
the  one  that  does  man}^  things  with  few  officials,  or  the 
one  that  does  next  to  nothing  with  an  army  of  them  ? 

PoiRET.     Is  that  your  last  word  ? 

Bixiou.  Yes,  sir  !  whether  English,  French,  German 
or  Italian,  —  I  let  3'ou  off  the  other  languages. 

PoiRET  [lifting  his  hands  to  heaven].  Gracious  good- 
ness !  and  they  call  you  a  witty  man  ! 

Bixiou.     Have  n't  you  understood  me  yet  ? 

Phellion.  Your  last  observation  was  full  of  excel- 
lent sense. 

Bixiou.  Just  as  full  as  the  budget  itself,  and  like 
the  budget  again,  as  complicated  as  it  looks  simple ; 
and  I  set  it  as  a  warning,  a  beacon,  at  the  edge  of  this 


318  Bureaucracy, 

hole,  this  gulf,  this  volcano,  called,  in  the  language  of 
the  "  Constitutionel,"  "  the  political  horizon." 

PoiRET.  I  should  much  prefer  a  comprehensible 
explanation. 

Bixiou.  Hurrah  for  Rabourdin  !  there  *s  my  expla- 
nation ;  that 's  my  opinion.     Are  you  satisfied? 

CoLLEViLLE  [gravcly]..  Monsieur  Rabourdin  had 
but  one  defect. 

PoiRET.     What  was  it? 

CoLLEviLLE.  That  of  being  a  statesman  instead  of  a 
subordinate  official. 

Phellion  [standing  before  Bixiou] .  Monsieur !  why 
did  you,  who  understand  Monsieur  Rabourdin  so  well, 
why  did  you  make  that  inf— that  odi  —  that  hideous 
caricature  ? 

Bixiou.  Do  you  forget  our  bet?  don't  yon  know  I 
was  backing  the  devil's  game,  and  that  your  bureau 
owes  me  a  dinner  at  the  Rocher  de  Cancale? 

PoiRET  [much  put-out].  Then  it  is  a  settled  thing 
that  I  am  to  leave  this  government  office  without  ever 
understanding  a  sentence,  or  a  single  word  uttered  by 
Monsieur  Bixiou. 

Bixiou.  It  is  your  own  fault;  ask  these  gentle- 
men. Gentlemen,  have  you  understood  the  meaning 
of  my  observations?  and  were  those  observations  just, 
and  brilliant? 

All.     Alas,  yes ! 


Bureaucracy,  319 

MiNARD.  And  the  proof  is  that  I  shall  send  in  my 
resignation.     I  shall  plunge  into  industrial  avocations. 

Bixiou.  What!  have  you  managed  to  invent  a 
mechanical  corset,  or  a  baby's  bottle,  or  a  fire  engine, 
or  chimneys  that  consume  no  fuel,  or  ovens  which  cook 
cutlets  with  three  sheets  of  paper? 

MiNARD  [departing].  Adieu,  I  shall  keep  my 
secret. 

Bixiou.  Well,  young  Poiret  junior,  you  see,  —  all 
these  gentlemen  understand  me. 

Poiret  [crest-fallen].  Monsieur  Bixiou,  would  3^ou  do 
me  the  honor  to  come  down  for  once  to  my  level  and 
speak  in  a  language  I  can  understand? 

Bixiou  [winking  at  the  rest].  Willingly.  [Takes 
Poiret  by  the  button  of  his  frock-coat.]  Before  you 
leave  this  oflSce  forever  perhaps  you  would  be  glad  to 
know  what  you  are  — 

Poiret  [quickly].     An  honest  man,  monsieur. 

Bixiou  [shrugging  his  shoulders].  — to  be  able 
to  define,  explain,  and  anal^'ze  precisely  what  a  govern- 
ment clerk  is  ?     Do  you  know  what  he  is  ? 

Poiret.     I  think  I  do. 

Bixiou  [twisting  the  button].     I  doubt  it. 

Poiret.    He  is  a  man  paid  b}-  government  to  do  work. 

Bixiou.     Oh  !  then  a  soldier  is  a  government  clerk? 

Poiret  [puzzled].     Why,  no. 

Bixiou.     But  he  is  paid  by  the  government  to  do 


320  Bureaucracy, 

work,  to  mount  guard  and  show  off  at  reviews.  You 
may  perhaps  tell  me  that  he  longs  to  get  out  of  his 
place,  —  that  he  works  too  hard  and  fingers  too  little 
metal,  except  that  of  his  musket. 

PoiRET'[his  eyes  wide  open].  Monsieur,  a  govern- 
ment clerk  is,  logically  speaking,  a  man  who  needs  the 
salary  to  maintain  himself,  and  is  not  free  to  get  out  of 
his  place  ;  for  he  doesn't  know  how  to  do  anything  but 
copy  papers. 

Bixiou.  Ah !  now  we  are  coming  to  a.  solution.  So 
the  bureau  is  the  clerk's  shell,  husk,  pod.  No  clerk 
without  a  bureau,  no  bureau  without  a  clerk.  But  what 
do  you  make,  then,  of  a  custom-house  officer?  [Poiret 
shuffles  his  feet  and  tries  to  edge  away ;  Bixiou  twists 
off  one  button  and  catches  him  by  another.]  He  is, 
from  the  bureaucratic  point  of  view,  a  neutral  being. 
The  excise-man  is  only  half  a  clerk ;  he  is  on  the  con- 
fines between  civil  and  military  service ;  neither  alto- 
gether soldier  nor  altogether  clerk  —  Here,  here,  where 
are  you  going?  [Twists  the  button.]  Where  does  the 
government  clerk  proper  end?  That's  a  serious  ques- 
tion.    Is  a  prefect  a  clerk  ?  " 

PoiRET  [hesitating.]     He  is  a  functionary. 

Bixiou.  But  you  don't  mean  that  a  functionary  is 
not  a  clerk?  that's  an  absurdity. 

Poiret  [weary  and  looking  round  for  escape].  I 
think  Monsieur  Godard  wants  to  say  something. 


Bureaucracy.  321 

GoDARD.     The  clerk  is  the  order,  the  functionary  the 
species. 

Bixiou  [laughing].     I  shouldn't  have  thought  you 
capable  of  that  distinction,  my  brave  subordinate. 

PoiRET  [trying  to  get  away].     Incomprehensible ! 

Bixiou.  La,  la,  papa,  don't  step  on  your  tether.  If 
you  stand  still  and  listen,  we  shall  come  to  an  under- 
standing before  long.  Now,  here 's  an  axiom  which  I 
bequeath  to  this  bureau  and  to  all  bureaus :  Where 
the  clerk  ends,  the  functionary  begins  ;  where  the  func- 
tionary ends,  the  statesman  rises.  There  are  very  few 
statesmen  among  the  prefects.  The  prefect  is  therefore 
a  neutral  being  among  the  higher  species.  He  comes 
between  the  statesman  and  the  clerk,  just  as  the  custom- 
house officer  stands  between  the  civil  and  the  military. 
Let  us  continue  to  clear  up  these  important  points. 
[Poiret  turns  crimson  with  distress.]  Suppose  we  for- 
mulate the  whole  matter  in  a  maxim  worthy  of  Laroche- 
foucault:  Officials  with  salaries  of  twenty  thousand 
francs  are  not  clerks.  From  which  we  may  deduce 
mathematically  this  corollary  :  The  statesman  first  looms 
up  in  the  sphere  of  high  salaries ;  and  also  this  second 
and  not  less  logical  and  important  corollary  :  Directors- 
general  may  be  statesmen.  Perhaps  it  is  in  that  sense 
that  more  than  one  deputy  says  in  his  heart,  "  It  is  a 
fine  thing  to  be  a  director-general."  But  in  the  interests 
of  our  noble  French  language  and  of  the  Academy  —  " 
21 


322  Bureaucracy. 

PoiRET  [magnetized  by  the  fixity  of  Bixiou*s  eye]. 
The  French  language  !  the  Academy  ! 

Bixiou  [twisting  off  the  second  button  and  seizing 
another].  Yes,  in  the  interests  of  our  noble  tongue, 
it  is  proper  to  observe  that  although  the  head  of  a 
bureau,  strictly  speaking,  may  be  called  a  clerk, 
the  head  of  a  division  must  be  called  a  bureaucrat. 
These  gentlemen  [turning  to  the  clerks  and  privately 
showing  them  the  third  button  off  Poire t's  coat]  will 
appreciate  this  delicate  shade  of  meaning.  And  so, 
papa  Poiret,  don't  you  see  it  is  clear  that^  the  govern- 
ment clerk  comes  to  a  final  end  at  the  head  of  a  division? 
Now  that  question  once  settled,  there  is  no  longer  any 
uncertainty ;  the  government  clerk  who  has  hitherto 
seemed  undefinable  is  defined. 

PoiRET.    Yes,  that  appears  to  me  beyond  a  doubt. 

Bixiou.  Nevertheless,  do  me  the  kindness  to  answer 
the  following  question :  A  judge  being  irremovable, 
and  consequently  debarred  from  being,  according  to 
your  subtle  distinction,  a  functionary,  and  receiving  a 
salary  which  is  not  the  equivalent  of  the  work  he  does, 
is  he  to  be  included  in  the  class  of  clerks  ? 

Poiret  [gazing  at  the  cornice].  Monsieur,  I  don't 
follow  you. 

Bixiou  [getting  off  the  fourth  button] .  I  wanted  to 
prove  to  you,  monsieur,  that  nothing  is  simple ;  but 
above  all  —  and  what  I  am  going  to  sa}^  is  intended  for 


Bureaucracy.  323 

philosophers  —  I  wish  (if  you'll  allow  me  to  misquote 
a  sa3ing  of  Louis  XVIII.),  —  I  wish  to  make  you  see 
that  definitions  lead  to  muddles. 

PoiKET  [wiping  his  forehead].  Excuse  me,  I  am  sick 
at  my  stomach  [tries  to  button  his  coat].  Ah!  you 
have  cut  off  all  my  buttons ! 

Bixiou.     But  the  point  is,  do  you  understand  me? 

PoiRET  [angrily] .  Yes,  monsieur,  I  do  ;  I  understand 
that  3^ou  have  been  playing  me  a  shameful  trick  and 
twisting  ofl'  my  buttons  while  I  have  been  standing  here 
unconscious  of  it. 

Bixiou  [solemnl3'].  Old  man,  you  are  mistaken! 
I  wished  to  stamp  upon  your  brain  the  clearest  possible 
image  of  constitutional  government  [all  the  clerks  look 
at  Bixiou ;  Poiret,  stupefied,  gazes  at  him  uneasily], 
and  also  to  keep  my  word  to  3^ou.  In  so  doing  I  em- 
ployed the  parabolical  method  of  savages.  Listen  and 
comprehend :  While  the  ministers  start  discussions  in 
the  Chambers  that  are  just  about  as  useful  and  as 
conclusive  as  the  one  we  are  engaged  in,  the  adminis- 
tration cuts  the  buttons  off  the  tax-payers. 

All.     Bravo,  Bixiou ! 

Poiret  [who  comprehends] .  I  don't  regret  my  buttons. 

Bixiou.  I  shall  follow  Minard's  example  ;  I  won't 
pocket  such  a  paltry  salar}'  as  mine  any  longer ;  I  shall 
deprive  the  government  of  my  co-operation.  [Departs 
amid  general  laughter.] 


324  Bureaucracy. 

Another  scene  was  taking  place  in  the  minister's 
reception-room,  more  instructive  than  the  one  we  have 
just  related,  because  it  shows  how  great  ideas  are 
allowed  to  perish  in  the  higher  regions  of  State  affairs, 
and  in  what  wa}-  statesmen  console  themselves. 

Des  Lupeaulx  was  presenting  the  new  director,  Mon- 
sieur Baudoyer,  to  the  minister.  A  number  of  persons 
were  assembled  in  the  salon,  — two  or  three  ministerial 
deputies,  a  few  men  of  influence,  and  Monsieur  Cler- 
geot  (whose  division  was  now  merged  with  La  Bil- 
lardiere's  under  Baudoyer's  direction),  to  whom  the 
minister  was  promising  an  honorable  pension.  After 
a  few  general  remarks,  the  great  event  of  the  day  was 
brought  up. 

A  Deputy.     So  you  lose  Rabourdin? 

Des  Lupeaulx.     He  has  resigned. 

Clergeot.  They  say  he  wanted  to  reform  the  ad- 
ministration. 

The  Minister  [looking  at  the  deputies].  Salaries 
are  not  really  in  proportion  to  the  exigencies  of  the 
civil  service. 

De  la  Bri^re.  According  to  Monsieur  Rabourdin, 
one  hundred  clerks  with  a  salary  of  twelve  thousand 
francs  "would  do  better  and  quicker  work  than  a  thou- 
sand clerks  at  twelve  hundred. 

Clergeot.     Perhaps  he  is  right. 

The  Minister.      But  what  is  to  be  done  ?    The  ma- 


Bureaucracy.  825 

chine  is  built  in  that  way.  Must  we  take  it  to  pieces  and 
remake  it?  No  one  would  have  the  courage  to  attempt 
that  in  face  of  the  Chamber,  and  the  foolish  outcries  of 
the  Opposition,  and  the  fierce  denunciations  of  the 
press.  It  follows  that  there  will  happen,  one  of  these 
days,  some  damaging  "  solution  of  continuity  "  between 
the  government  and  the  administration. 

A  Deputy.     In  what  way  ? 

The  Minister.  In  many  ways.  A  minister  will 
want  to  serve  the  public  good,  and  will  not  be  allowed 
to  do  so.  You  will  create  interminable  dela3's  between 
things  and  their  results.  You  may  perhaps  render  the 
theft  of  a  penny  actually  impossible,  but  you  cannot 
prevent  the  buying  and  selling  of  influence,  the  col- 
lusions of  self-interest.  The  day  will  come  when  noth- 
ing will  be  conceded  without  secret  stipulations,  which 
may  never  see  the  light.  Moreover,  the  clerks,  one  and 
all,  from  the  least  to  the  greatest,  are  acquiring  opin- 
ions of  their  own ;  thc}^  will  soon  be  no  longer  the 
hands  of  a  brain,  the  scribes  of  governmental  thought ; 
the  Opposition  even  now  tends  towards  giving  them 
a  right  to  judge  the  government  and  to  talk  and  vote 
against  it. 

Baudoyer  [in  a  low  voice,  but  meaning  to  be  heard]. 
Monseigneur  is  really  fine. 

Des  Lupeaulx.  Of  course  bureaucracy  has  its  de- 
fects.    I  myself  think  it  slow  and  insolent ;  it  hampers 


326  Bureaucracy. 

ministerial  action,  stifles  projects,  and  arrests  progress. 
But,  after  all,  French  administration  is  amazingly  useful. 

Baudoyer.     Certainly ! 

Des  Lupeaulx.  If  only  to  maintain  the  paper  and 
stamp  industries  !  Suppose  it  is  rather  fussy  and  pro- 
voking, like  all  good  housekeepers,  —  it  can  at  any  mo- 
ment render  an  account  of  its  disbursements.  Where 
is  the  merchant  who  would  not  gladly  give  five  per  cent 
of  his  entire  capital  if  he  could  insure  himself  against 
leakage? 

The  Deputy  [a  manufacturer].  The  manufacturing 
interests  of  all  nations  would  joyfully  unite  against 
that  evil  genius  of  theirs  called  leakage. 

Des  Lupeaulx.  After  all,  though  statistics  are  the 
childish  foible  of  modern  statesmen,  who  think  that 
figures  are  estimates,  we  must  cipher  to  estimate. 
Figures  are,  moreover,  the  convincing  argument  of 
societies  based  on  self-interest  and  money,  and  that 
is  the  sort  of  society  the  Charter  has  given  us,  —  in  ray 
opinion,  at  any  rate.  Nothing  convinces  the  "intelli- 
gent masses  "  as  much  as  a  row  of  figures.  All  things 
in  the  long  run,  say  the  statesmen  of  the  Left,  resolve 
themselves  into  figures.  Well  then,  let  us  figure  [the 
minister  here  goes  ofi"  into  a  corner  with  a  deputy,  to 
whom  he  talks  in  a  low  voice].  There  are  forty  thou- 
sand government  clerks  in  France.  The  average  of 
their  salaries  is  fifteen  hundred  francs.     Multiply  forty 


Bureaucracy.  327 

thousand  by  fifteen  hundred  and  yon  have  sixty  mil- 
lions. Now,  in  the  first  place,  a  publicist  would  call 
the  attention  of  Russia  and  China  (where  all  govern- 
ment officials  steal) ,  also  that  of  Austria,  the  American 
republics,  and  indeed  that  of  the  whole  world,  to  the 
fact  that  for  this  price  France  possesses  the  most  in- 
quisitorial, fussy,  ferreting,  scribbling,  paper-blotting, 
fault-finding  old  housekeeper  of  a  civil  service  on  God's 
earth.  Not  a  copper  farthing  of  the  nation's  money  is 
spent  or  hoarded  that  is  not  ordered  by  a  note,  proved 
by  vouchers,  produced  and  re-produced  on  balance- 
sheets,  and  receipted  for  when  paid ;  orders  and  re- 
ceipts are  registered  on  the  rolls,  and  checked  and 
verified  by  an  arm}^  of  men  in  spectacles.  If  there  is 
the  slightest  mistake  in  the  form  of  these  precious  docu- 
ments, the  clerk  is  terrified,  for  he  lives  on  such  minutiae. 
Some  nations  would  be  satisfied  to  get  as  far  as  this ; 
but  Napoleon  went  further.  That  great  organizer  ap- 
pointed supreme  magistrates  of  a  court  which  is  abso- 
lutely unique  in  the  world.  These  officials  pass  their 
days  in  verifying  money-orders,  documents,  roles,  reg- 
isters, lists,  permits,  custom-house  receipts,  payments, 
taxes  received,  taxes  spent,  etc. ;  all  of  which  the 
clerks  write  or  cop3^  These  stern  judges  push  the 
gift  of  exactitude,  the  genius  of  inquisition,  the  sharp- 
sightedness  of  lynxes,  the  perspicacity  of  account-books 
to  the  point  of  going  over  all  the  additions  in  search  of 


328  Bureaucracy. 

subtractions.  These  sublime  martyrs  to  figures  have 
been  known  to  return  to  an  army  commissary,  after  a 
delay  of  two  years,  some  account  in  which  there  was 
an  error  of  two  farthings.  This  is  how  and  why  it  is 
that  the  French  system  of  administration,  the  purest 
and  best  on  the  globe  has  rendered  robberj^,  as  his 
Excellency  has  just  told  you,  next  to  impossible, 
and  as  for  peculation,  it  is  a  myth.  France  at  this 
present  time  possesses  a  revenue  of  twelve  hundred 
millions,  and  she  spends  it.  That  sum  enters  her  treas- 
ury and  that  sum  goes  out  of  it.  She  handles,  there- 
fore, two  thousand  four  hundred  millions,  and  all  she 
pays  for  the  labor  of  those  who  do  the  work  is  sixty 
millions,  — two  and  a  half  per  cent ;  and  for  that  she  ob- 
tains the  certainty  that  there  is  no  leakage.  Our  politi- 
cal and  administrative  kitchen  costs  us  sixty  millions, 
but  the  gendarmerie,  the  courts  of  law,  the  galleys  and 
the  police  cost  just  as  much,  and  give  no  return.  More- 
over, we  emplo}^  a  bod}'  of  men  who  could  do  no  other 
work.  Waste  and  disorder,  if  such  there  be,  can  only 
be  legislative ;  the  Chambers  lead  to  them  and  render 
them  legal.  Leakage  follows  in  the  form  of  pubUc 
works  which  are  neither  urgent  nor  necessary' ;  troops 
re-uniformed  and  gold-laced  over  and  over  again  ;  ves- 
sels sent  on  useless  cruises  ;  preparations  for  war  with- 
out ever  making  it ;  paying  the  debts  of  a  State,  and  not 
requiring  reimbursement  or  insisting  on  security. 


Bureaucracy.  329 

Baudoyer.  But  such  leakage  has  nothing  to  do  with 
the  subordinate  officip.ls  ;  this  bad  management  of  na- 
tional affairs  concerns  the  statesmen  who  guide  the  ship. 

The  Minister  [who  has  finished  his  conversation]. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  truth  in  what  des  Lupeaulx 
has  just  said  ;  but  let  me  tell  you  [to  Baudoj^er],  Mon- 
sieur le  directeur,  that  few  men  see  from  the  standpoint 
of  a  statesman.  To  order  expenditures  of  all  kinds, 
even  useless  ones,  does  not  constitute  bad  manage- 
ment. Such  acts  contribute  to  the  movement  of  money, 
the  stagnation  of  which  becomes,  especially  in  France, 
dangerous  to  the  public  welfare,  by  reason  of  the  miserly 
and  profoundly  illogical  habits  of  the  provinces  which 
hoard  their  gold. 

The  Deputy  [who  listened  to  des  Lupeaulx].  But  it 
seems  to  me  that  if  yoxxv  Excellency  was  right  just  now, 
and  if  our  clever  friend  here  [takes  des  Lupeaulx  by  the 
arm]  was  not  wrong,  it  will  be  difficult  to  come  to  any 
conclusion  on  the  subject. 

Des  Lupeaulx  [after  looking  at  the  minister] .  No 
doubt  something  ought  to  be  done. 

De  la  BriI:re  [timidly].  Monsieur  Rabourdin  seems 
tx)  have  judged  rightly. 

The  Minister.     I  will  see  Rabourdin. 

Des  Lupeaulx.  The  poor  man  made  the  blunder  of 
constituting  himself  supreme  judge  of  the  administra- 
tion and  of  all  the  officials  who  compose  it ;  he  wants 


830  Bureaucracy, 

to  do  away  with  the  present  state  of  things,  and  he  de- 
mands that  there  be  onlj^  three  ministries. 

The  Minister.     He  must  be  crazy. 

The  Deputy.  How  could  you  represent  in  three 
ministries  the  heads  of  all  the  parties  in  the  Chamber  ? 

Baudoyer  [with  an  air  that  he  imagined  to  be 
shrewd].  Perhaps  Monsieur  Rabourdin  desired  to 
change  the  Constitution,  which  we  owe  to  our  legis- 
lative sovereign. 

The  Minister  [thoughtful,  takes  La  Briere's  arm  and 
leads  him  into  the  study].  I  want  to  see  that  work  of 
Rabourdin's,  and  as  you  know  about  it  — 

De  la  BRiiiRE.  He  has  burned  it.  You  allowed  him 
to  be  dishonored  and  he  has  resigned  from  the  ministrj*. 
Do  not  think  for  a  moment,  Monseigneur,  that  Rabour- 
din ever  had  the  absurd  thought  (as  des  Lupeaulx  tries 
to  make  it  believed)  to  change  the  admirable  central- 
ization of  power. 

The  Minister  [to  himself].  I  have  made  a  mistake 
[is  silent  a  moment].  No  matter ;  we  shall  never  be 
lacking  in  plans  for  reform. 

De  la  Briere.  It  is  not  ideas,  but  men  capable  of 
executing  them  that  we  lack. 

Des  Lupeaulx,  that  adroit  advocate  of  abuses  came 
into  the  minister's  study  at  this  moment. 

"  Monseigneur,  I  start  at  once  for  my  election." 

*'  AYait  a  moment,"  said  his  Exceltency,  leaving  the 


Bureaucracy,  331 

private  secretary  and  taking  des  Lupeaulx  by  the  arm 
into  the  recess  of  a  window.  ''  My  dear  friend,  let  me 
have  that  arrondissement,  —  if  you  will,  you  shall  be 
made  count  and  I  will  pay  your  debts.  Later,  if  I  re- 
main in  the  ministry  after  the  new  Chamber  is  elected, 
I  will  find  a  way  to  send  in  your  name  in  a  batch  for 
the  peerage." 

"  You  are  a  man  of  honor,  and  I  accept." 
This  is  how  it  came  to  pass  that  Clement  Chardin  des 
Lupeaulx,  whose  father  was  ennobled  under  Louis  XV., 
and  who  beareth  quarterly-,  first,  argent,  a  wolf  ravis- 
sant  carrying  a  lamb  gules ;  second,  purpure,  three 
mascles  argent,  two  and  one ;  third,  paly  of  twelve, 
gules  and  argent;  fourth,  or,  on  a  pale  endorsed,  three 
batons  fleurdelises  gules ;  supported  by  four  griffon's- 
claws  jessant  from  the  sides  of  the  escutcheon,  with  the 
motto  JEn  Lupus  in  Sistoria^  was  able  to  surmount 
these  rather  satirical  arms  with  a  count's  coronet. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  year  1830  Monsieur  Rabour- 
din  had  some  business  on  hand  which  required  him  to 
visit  his  old  ministry,  where  the  bureaus  had  all  been  in 
great  commotion,  owing  to  a  general  removal  of  oflScials, 
from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  This  revolution  bore 
heaviest,  in  point  of  fact,  upon  the  lackeys,  who  are 
not  fond  of  seeing  new  faces.  Rabourdin  had  come 
earlj^,  knowing  all  the  wa^'S  of  the  place,  and  he  thus 


332  Bureaucracy, 

chanced  to  overhear  a  dialogue  between  the  two  neph- 
ews of  old  Antoine,  who  had  recently  retired  on  a 
pension. 

"  Well,  Laurent,  how  is  your  chief  of  division  going 
on  ?  " 

' '  Oh,  don't  talk  to  me  about  him :  I  can't  do  any- 
thing with  him.  He  rings  me  up  to  ask  if  I  have  seen 
his  handkerchief  or  his  snuff-box.  He  receives  people 
without  making  them  wait ;  in  short,  he  has  n't  a  bit  of 
dignit3\  I  'm  often  obliged  to  saj-  to  him  :  But,  mon- 
sieur, monsieur  le  comte  your  predecessor,  for  the  credit 
of  the  thing,  used  to  punch  holes  with  his  penknife  in 
the  arms  of  his  chair  to  make  believe  he  was  working. 
And  he  makes  such  a  mess  of  his  room.  I  find  every- 
thing topsy-turvy.  He  has  a  ver}^  small  mind.  How 
about  3'our  man?" 

*'  Mine?  Oh,  I  have  succeeded  in  training  him.  He 
knows  exactly  where  his  letter-paper  and  envelopes,  his 
wood,  and  his  boxes  and  all  the  rest  of  his  things  are. 
The  other  man  used  to  swear  at  me,  but  this  one  is  as 
meek  as  a  lamb,  —  still,  he  has  n't  the  grand  style ! 
Moreover,  he  is  n't  decorated,  and  I  don't  like  to  serve 
a  chief  who  is  n't ;  he  might  be  taken  for  one  of  us,  and 
that 's  humiliating.  He  carries  the  office  letter-paper 
home,  and  asked  me  if  I  could  n't  go  there  and  wait  at 
table  when  there  was  company." 

'''•  Hey !  what  a  government,  my  dear  fellow  !  " 


Bureaucracy.  333 

*'  Yes,  indeed  ;  everj^body  plays  low  in  these  days." 
"  I  hope  they  won't  cut  down  our  poor  wages." 
"I'm  afraid  they  will.     The  Chambers  are  prying 
into  everything.     Why,  they  even  count  the  sticks  of 
wood." 

*'  Well,  it  can't  last  long  if  they  go  on  that  way." 
"  Hush,  we're  caught !  somebod}^  is  listening." 
"  Hey  !  it  is  the  late  Monsieur  Rabourdin.  Ah,  mon- 
sieur, I  knew  your  step.  If  3"ou  have  business  to  tran- 
sact here  I  am  afraid  you  will  not  find  any  one  who  is 
aware  of  the  respect  that  ought  to  be  paid  to  you; 
Laurent  and  I  are  the  only  persons  remaining  about 
the  place  who  were  here  in  your  day.  Messieurs  Colle- 
ville  and  Baudo3"er  did  n't  wear  out  the  morocco  of  the 
chairs  after  you  left.  Heavens,  no !  six  months  later 
they  were  made  Collectors  of  Paris. 


University  Press :  John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge. 


3-^j 


Pi 


RETURN 
TO 


CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 

202  Main  Library 


LOAN  PERIOD  1 
HOME  USE 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

1 -month  loons  moy  be  renewed  by  calling  642-3405 
6-month  loons  moy  be  rechorged  by  bringing  books  to  Circulotic 
Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  mode  4  days  prior  to  due  d 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


'NTER-LIE 


RARY  LOAM 


JUL  8     t9  7 


BMia 


MAY  10  1992 


APR  1 0  1992 


piprs'  a  ATir\^t 


FORM  NO.  DD  6, 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BEI 
BERKELEY,  CA  94720 


LD  21-100m-v,'i 


U.C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


CDB^bBHElb 


m<5 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


